The Blue Star
by Ahn-Li Steffraini
Summary: Finally answering the question of how Raistlin came by the Blue Star in the first place. A prequel to the True Sight Saga. COMPLETE. It only took ten years, but it's done...
1. Prolog

Blue Star

A Dragonlance Fan Fiction

by Miiro and Lord Terrence

**_Disclaimer_**: I don't claim any ownership to Dragonlance, any of its characters. Only Marion and the Miiro are mine.

**_Author's Note_**: This may sound MS in the beginning. Maybe even in the ending. But after it won't. There is a second part to this, but no plans for a third. But I can tell you that it's not MS at all, and if you read carefully you will see why not. Any more and I give away not only the ending, but any subsquent parts after.

**_Summary_**: When Raistlin is kidnapped by a mysterious woman, Caramon is left to track them across Ansalon. But is everything as it seems, or is it Raistlin that is doing the running?

* * *

"Can you tell me more of Raistlin Majere?" asked the young scribe from Astinus's library.

He had come a far distance to this southern Ansalon town mostly inhabited by Hill Dwarves to finish his research on, the now dead, wizard Raistlin Majere. His research had led him to some extremely interesting leads. One of which, he was surprised to note, was an alleged marriage that he could not confirm. While interesting, if he could confirm it, it was just a wild rumor to add to the growing pile about Raistlin.

"Well," began the old dwarf. "I remember a young wizard. I was pretty sure he was a wizard... he came in 'ere with a young woman. Ah yes! I remember now. They were on their honeymoon and travelling South. I thought them daft, but since they somehow got past Thorbardin there was really no point in stopping them."

"That is really interesting, I am sure, but have you ever seen Raistlin Majere?" demanded the scribe, a bit shortly, and loudly, judging by the stares of the patrons suddenly shaken out of their drowsy drinking.

"Majere?" asked the dwarf, a sudden glint in his eyes. "I thought 'is name was _Miiro_...."

* * *


	2. Chapter One

**_ Chapter One_**

She looked over in concern from the fifth attempt to get the fire started. He still coughed, but he was getting under control. At least she hoped. Not for the first time she questioned her wisdom in taking him with her.

No. She must not question. It was the will of the Gods. It must be. Why else had he been blessed with the shield, even if he could not control it.

Just when the coughing fit ended another picked up again.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Define all right," came the sharp answer.

Marion swallowed her own sharp response, but her eyes narrowed, both at his rudeness, and at the latest attempt of getting the fire to light. "Crotchety, aren't we?" she said just loud enough for him to hear.

"_Crotchety_?" he repeated in disbelief. "Let me get this straight. You _kidnapped_ me, and you expect _me_ to be _sociable_ to _you_? I'm hardly sociable to my own twin _brother_, let alone someone who _drugged_ me, threw me on a horse, and left said brother behind."

"Calm down, you are doing to give yourself one of your own attacks," she chided him.

He settled back down into the what little blankets she had been able to pack for the flight away from the tavern she had grabbed him out of. While she could still hear mumbling and some colorful cursing from his direction, she ignored it. Finally she sighed and glared at the damp, but not soaked wood. For a moment she was very tempted to use her magic and tell the wood to light, but she refrained.

He would know then. He would figure it out. It was too soon for him to figure it out. Only later....

_But is it too soon_? she wondered. _What if I tell him now_?

_He would not believe me_, came her own answer.

That skepticism was the very reason she had kidnapped him. She needed Raistlin Majere's aloofness to succeed. But right now is was more of a major pain in the... _ah dammit_.... she thought as the sparks refused to light.

Knowing that if she didn't get this fire lighted soon he would die, and her as well. Looking over to the bundle of blankets that held the young wizard, and hopefully kept him warm, she gauged whether he could see her from where he was. No, that was the back of his head she saw.

Marion concentrated a little on her left hand, the one that held the damp wood. Thinning her eyes she looked deeper to the water that was within it, keeping it from lighting. A short moment later, "_Shirak-dalai_."

The wood crackled as it burst into flame and she dropped into the other pieces of wood. The heat from the incinerated log dried the other wood and soon the fire lit up the darkness cheerfully. She leaned back in triumph, and doing so she saw the surprised golden hourglass eyes looking at her. "How in the Abyss did you do that with wet wood?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged. "I guess the wood dried out."

"Maybe so," those golden eyes thinned in thought, then he moved closer to the fire and held out his hands to warm them. "But not that dry. No, I refer to your use of magic that should be beyond a... warrior's use."

"I have some knowledge of magic. It allows me to serve all the better. How else would I survive in this world alone except for the one I serve?" she asked.

"A very good question," he conceded with a tip of his head. "How did you come to be in the service of the Miiro?"

"Miiro discovered me in Tarsis. I have been serving the Miiro ever since," she answered, a bit cryptically. "When I have no further use to the Miiro, I will be sent away, and another found."

Raistlin crinkled his brow in thought. As far as he knew, the Miiro was a scholar that was second only to Astinus. Indeed, sometimes others wondered if the Miiro and Astinus were one and the same. Well, the common people did. Even Raistlin had thought it so before the Test at the Tower. After the Test, when he had time to read the books there, he saw that the Miiro was an immortal being that lived as the Balance between Law and Chaos. Good and Evil were of no consequence, only that ever delicate balance that kept a whole other extreme from coming to pass.

But so far no one had actually met a person who claimed to _serve_ the Miiro.

Until now.

"Is the Miiro a God?" asked Raistlin, his curiosity piqued.

"Not in the sense that most know as a God," came her answer. "The Miiro is more than the Gods can ever hope for, and also less. The Miiro was before the Gods of Good and Evil were even born, but yet also not their equal in power. In a sense."

_Okay_, now _I'm confused_, thought Raistlin. _And that is quite the feat_.... "What kind of sense? Can the Miiro grant powers to their followers like the Gods were reputed to do?"

"No," she answered. "The Miiro is."

"Then why serve the Miiro?"

"To serve the Miiro is... a reward for deeds done to preserve the Balance," she answered. "Or the potential to preserve the Balance."

He blinked in confusion. "No powers. No one knows of your Order. Barely anyone knows of the Miiro, or if they do, what they know is most likely false. And the reward is _further_ service..." he shook his head in disbelief. "Not a life for me."

* * *

Caramon Majere sighed in frustration at the cave he searched in. He knelt down and felt the ashes. They were just barely warm, signifying that the damnable woman had again eluded him. Somehow she knew when he was getting close, and even with his brother likely resisting - his lips curled upwards in a smile - she _still_ got away.

He looked over to the elf that had decided to help him, "Gone again."

"I see that," said the elf that was named simply Thorn. "I have infravision. The ashes are still warm, which meant they are about a day ahead of us. The good news is that if you decide to camp here for the night, it makes a good place to do so."

Thorn was right, as he usually was. Caramon was extremely glad that the ranger had actually agreed to help him track his brother's kidnapper. Thorn was a strange fellow sometimes, stranger even than Tanis was. Then again, Tanis was half-elven, not full elven like Thorn.

_And what is with the name Thorn_? wondered Caramon again.

"Sometimes I wonder if I don't rest, if I would be able to catch up with them?" he said aloud.

"You would, but what then, Caramon?" asked Thorn. "You be too tired to take on Irianda."

"Who?" asked Caramon.

"Irianda, also known as Marion Irianda," answered Thorn. "A vile woman who deserves nothing short of death. I have been hunting her for a very long time. And this bold move may prove to be her undoing."

"What did she do?"

"Many things. In her path she leaves a swath of destruction," Thorn's lip curled in derision. "I hope for your brother's sake that she has not managed to turn him..."

Caramon felt his heart sink, "I should have never left alone! Oh, why am I so stupid. When I get him back it will never happen again."

With that, Caramon set out to light the fire before the ashes turned too cold to be of any worth.

* * *

The next day was sunny, and she helped Raistlin to mount the horse. Again, she tied his hands to the pommel of the saddle. He gritted his teeth in annoyance, but said nothing. She took the reins and looped them over her own pommel, then shifting the Staff of Magius, which, unfortunately for him, was tied to the saddle on her horse, she mounted, "With a fine day as this we should be well in the vallenwoods."

Raistlin snapped his head around and saw the trees in question to the South. "Vallenwoods? You mean Solace, don't you?" he asked. "Why past them? Where are you taking me?"

"All in good time," she answered, then she made the horse trot through the clearing.

For awhile Raistlin was content to allow her to lead the horse he rode, but with each passing moment, his agitation rose. If he could untie himself, then somehow get off the horse without breaking his neck... he could make it to Solace. Or, in the very least, he could hide in the woods that had been his home most of his living memory. This stranger would have no chance of finding him. He let the cowl of his brown cloak fall over his face and he smiled slightly.

It was just finding that right moment to take his leave.

When the sun rose high in the sky, signaling noon, she stopped the horses, but did not dismount. She brought Raistlin's horse up beside hers, and rummaged in the saddlebag. Finding what she was looking for, she brought it out with a small show of triumph. "Lunchtime, Raistlin."

"I'm not hungry," he answered back.

For a moment, her cheerfulness faltered, and she sighed. "You may not be, but all this riding has made me hungry. And eventually you will be hungry."

Marion then moved the horses into a canter that allowed her to eat and control them with ease. Finally, Raistlin broke the silence. "Why the rush, Marion?"

"What rush?"

He made his head gesture to the two horses, since his hands could not. Damn, he had not realized just how much he had relied on the use of his hands in the most inane things until he could not use them. "Even in eating, we still move. When we are not at rest, you make the horses almost gallop. To rest them, you still make them walk. Where are we going in such a rush? It is still summer."

She smiled. "But it may not be where we are going, Raistlin. Nor may we be able to pass Thorbardin after the first snows. And it will take us that long to get down there."

"Pass Thorbardin?" Raistlin's voice rose sharply. "How in the name of the Abyss do you expect to pass through Thorbardin... unless you aren't going to... oh no, now I see."

He leaned back and let the sun shine on his face. "Marion, this journey is going to be months, maybe even nearly a year. And you plan to do this on horseback, with me as an unwilling participant."

"You may change your mind once you understand..."

"Understand what?" he asked in exasperation. "That you want to take me so far away that whatever I want in life won't be possible?"

"The Miiro has a better offer."

"Oh no," he said, shaking his head to punctuate his wishes. "I don't want to serve some unknown God or Goddess for the rest of my life, whose only means to reward his or her followers is with more service..."

"If you knew how important that work was, you would not say that," she retorted. "The Miiro is compassionate and never asks for more than what you can give. All she asks in your best...."

"She?" Raistlin repeated softly and Marion went white with the realization that she had given away one of the Miiro's most precious secrets: _Identity_. "And what is so bad about knowing that."

"The main tenet is secrecy. The Miiro... is protected by the lack of anyone knowing anything that identifies who she is," Marion sighed. "You see, she is not totally immortal. She can die. And she is the Balance of Chaos and Law."

"I see. So if no one knows who or what the Miiro is, she remains protected and the Balance remains," said Raistlin, his ire calmed only very little by this newest revelation. "And what if the Miiro dies?"

"The Miiro is replaced by a new Miiro, but one of the factions of Law and Chaos will begin to get the upper hand and... well, the last time this happened something very bad happened..." answered Marion.

"It's not as if she caused the Cataclysm..."

Marion's sudden paleness and silence made a sudden lump form in his throat. "By Lunitari, that's what happened, didn't it?"

"The old Miiro found the new Miiro, but before he could finish her training, the life left him and she was left alone to figure things out," Marion seemed to fade out again. "In that time, Law got the upper hand, and the Kingpriest, in the grip of extreme Law, called down the wrath of the Gods."

Ouch, not the best way to start out a new career. "But she did not cause it," he said, making a distinction. "It was not her fault per se. And things did balance out between Law and Chaos."

Marion nodded, "Not for many years, but a Balance was struck again, and she has been keeping to her duties with my help."

"Your help? Does she not have anyone else?" asked Raistlin incredulously.

"No, who she had died of old age shortly after I came. The people have forgotten the Miiro and the role she must take in life," answered Marion sadly. "But she has hopes for you..."

"Me?" asked Raistlin. "Like I said, I have no interest in serving someone who can only reward me with more service unless she has a wizard to train me, and you don't look like a wizard that can, Marion."

Marion sighed in exasperation. "Is that all you think about? What you can get out of a bargain. Have you no compassion? No sense of duty?"

"I have plenty of compassion," snarled Raistlin. "And don't you _ever_ question my sense of duty. I know what needs to be done in life, and I have _never_ shirked my duty."

"Forgive me," she said, apologetically. "I have a habit of telling me people what I think in not the most tactful manner, but at least I work on it."

He gritted his teeth. As much as he had learned, it only brought up more questions. Finally he ground out, "You may as well leave me in Solace, because I am not going to help you or the Miiro. Whatever you think I can do, you are mistaken."

"You don't even know what it is yet," her eyes narrowed. "And don't tell me you're not the least bit curious. I have been watching you for years, Majere. I know what drives you. You may not come willingly now but _you will eventually_."

With that, she kicked the horses gently into a gallop, and Raistlin concentrated on keeping his seat.

* * *

I know that the chapters are a bit short, but I don't want to cram the entire story into a few really long chapters. As you can tell, it's not really MS at all. I was worried too when the plot bunny hit me, but after I wrote it, I saw that it really was not. Give it a chance and you will see. 


	3. Chapter Two

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

"Blast."

That one word was that was needed to sum up the entire situation, and Caramon's feelings on the matter. This time Thorn had told him, "These ashes are cold, they are moving faster this time. For some reason she keeps heading South."

"So in other words, we are falling even further behind?" asked Caramon in frustration.

"It would seem so."

Caramon, by far, was not a stupid man. Nor did he charge heedlessly into the unknown. Granted, his thought process seemed slower than Raistlin's, but that was only due to the fact that Caramon was a planner. "It would help if we knew where she was going..." he said, thinking aloud. "Think about it, what direction has she been heading the entire time?"

"South, of course," snorted Thorn. "But at any point she could veer off."

"I don't think so. I think she is trying to get someplace before she can't," said Caramon, pointed directly South and facing Thorn. "She is trying to get past Thorbardin before the winter sets in and she can't pass the mountians."

"But it's summer..."

"It's summer now, but by the time they get there it will be early fall. And then it will take time to pass the mountains. By then, winter will have arrived," surmised Caramon. "That's why the hurry. Now if we could just cut her off..."

Thorn snorted, "How? We can't fly, and horses only run so fast."

"Yeah, that is true, but I remember a few years before our group split up that Raistlin, Tanis and Flint used portals to get to Mithas in a matter of moments. I'll bet my sword that there's more of them, and one will get us ahead of her so we can cut her off."

"Not to be cynical, but that takes time, and by then she will be at the very Gates of Thorbardin!" cried Thorn.

"Ah," Caramon said as he mounted the large horse he was riding. "But the portals are probably near there. And even then, I am sure that if we can find one, we can find another that will take us past Thorbardin, and ahead of her by weeks. Then all we have to do is..."

Thorn picked up on the idea, "Double back the long method and cut her off. Caramon, you're brilliant, you know that? As smart as your brother. I would hate to play against you in a game of chess..."

* * *

He was bone-tired of riding, but even he could see that the next time they stopped to camp at night that his opportunity to escape Marion was near. Solace was about a day's walk straight through the vallenwoods, and as dangerous as that was, he was far safer hidden in those woods than he was with her.

After all, it was his home, or very near to it.

Raistlin looked over to her, noting that for all the determination, she was beginning to tire. He also racked his brains for a spell he might remember that did not need any complicated components. Hiding a smile, and his relief, he did remember one. Just the one, and it was a mere cantrip, but it would have to do.

Finally, she stopped the horses and untied his hands to help him out of the saddle. After he walked a bit to get all the kinks out, he waited for the right moment.

He had to admit, she kept a very close eye on him, but that had to lax at some point...

Seeing her half turn to get out her flint and steel, and he knew that he would have no better moment. Raistlin turned, picked up the edge of his robes so he would not trip, and ran into the thick woods. He could hear behind him, "Stop!"

He didn't.

Running in the general direction of Solace, he realized that if she had truly done her research, which she had appeared to have done, she would figure out that he would make a run for it, and to where. So he changed direction to the sound of rushing water.

Somewhere in his anxious and excited mind, he knew that this was not a good idea, but that never did dawn on him.

He could hear the sound of hooves, and knew that she was using a horse to chase him. Darting into the deeper bush where he knew a horse could not follow, and therefore forcing her into chasing him on foot, he ran.

The one thing that he hoped in the back of mind was that his lungs would not fail him in this extreme need for air. As it was, he had been running enough for them to begin to burn, and then finally they screamed in the torture. But he still did not cough. They did not fail, and the energy to run was there. _Amazing what happens_, he had time to think. _When you must live and how the body responds to the need of survival. Will have to think more on that_...

..._When I have time to _stop_ and think_.

Finally, and a bit frightening so, the forest suddenly opened up to a clearing. Unfortunately, he had no time to fully connect on the type of clearing, and kept running. That was until he saw the gap in the land and that he was running to was a cliff, and at the bottom the whitewater of the river below.

..._Oh shit!!_...

He was running too fast to stop quickly, and skidded over the edge of the cliff. In the reaction time, he remembered that cantrip. _Good time to think about it! Raistlin, sometime you are such an idiot..._

"_Hava_!" he cried barely in time to catch the branch as he went by it.

The branch grasped him back and he stopped falling with a sudden jerking stop.

He took one breath, then another when he realized that the weak root he had cast the spell on was now an inch thick and strong enough to support even his twin's weight. Raistlin looked down at the raging river. He was still too far up to safely fall and not kill himself, and when he looked up he saw that he was too far down to climb back up.

Raistlin was stuck and in need of rescuing.

* * *

Marion heard the frantic cry, and the word behind it, and ran through the brush. Slowing when she came to the clearing, and the cliff, she stood there perplexed. Then she saw the skid marks and the sign of passage right over the edge. Moving cautiously she looked over the edge.

If she was in a good mood, she might have laughed at the sight below her.

Raistlin hung below, holding onto a tree root that had been magically grown, a good twenty feet down the cliff. His crimson robes were shredded and pretty well what remained were tatters that fluttered in the breeze, leaving his upper body effectively bare. His gold eyes looked up at her in vague askance. She called down, "You should never have ran, Mr. Majere."

"Could you really blame me?" he called back. "You kidnapped me. What would you do in my position?"

"Probably the same thing," she muttered, then her voice regained his former strength. "Raistlin, you have to hang on. The only rope we have is with the horses and I have to go back to get it."

"I'm not going anywhere," came the sardonic reply.

Marion ran back to her horse and led the charger through the thick brush and to the cliff edge. Taking the length of rope she tied to the saddlehorn and then threw the other end down the cliff. His voice called up, "It's not quite long enough..."

She looked over the cliff and saw that it was just too short by mere feet. However...

Marion pulled the rope back up and tied in around her waist. She then scaled the cliff facing downwards, a risky move but one she was familiar with and the only way to see where she was going. When she came up too short that way, she lay down flat, and upside down on the cliff and stretched her arms down. That managed to reach him if he reached out one arm. He shook his head in disbelief, "You are crazy."

"Maybe so, can you reach me?"

Reaching up, she saw that he was inches too short.

Sighing in frustration, she incanted a short spell and then stretched out her hand. Nothing happened. Looking at Raistlin who had repeated the words to memorize them, she said, "Can you cast it?"

"I think so," he answered. "What does it do?"

"It will call your staff to you. It didn't work with me because I am not the owner of the staff."

His eyes widened, and then he repeated the words, "_Calla zaffi Magi_."

When he reached out his hand this time, the Staff of Magius materialized in his hand. His eyes widened in surprise, then he looked up at her. "If I go with you, will you teach me other things like this?"

"If you come with me, I can teach you things that would have Justarius _drooling_," she promised, and in her tone, even he knew she was serious.

He reached up with the staff and she grasped it with two hands and he held on with first just the one, then he let go of the branch and hung on to only the staff.

She whistled and her horse began to back up, pulling them up the cliff. She walked backwards up the cliff, and he followed. When they came to on the edge of the cliff, and on solid ground again, he asked, "Is this why you follow Miiro?"

"Miiro is an archivist, Raistlin. She has access to tomes and books that rival the library in Palanthus. And what she does not have, she can ask Antinus for. You see, while Astinus worships Gilean, the Scales of Balance between Good and Evil, Miiro represents the Balance between Law and Chaos," answered Marion. "They have an understanding with one another, and a mutual respect."

Raistlin lay back thoughtfully, "I think I would like to meet with this Miiro."

"She was hoping you would say that," Marion said with a slight smile.

* * *

Caramon and Thorn came to the campsite in the vallenwoods, and at this point Thorn bent down. "They never camped here..." he pointed to the woods. "I think Marion was about to light a fire when it appears your brother made a run for it, heading in that direction."

Caramon dismounted the horse and followed Thorn, leading the horses behind him. When they came to the cliff where an obvious scuffle had been, Thorn said, "And I think Raistlin fell over the edge in his haste to escape..."

With that the larger twin collapsed on his knees, "So he is dead?"

Thorn walked around, and even looked over the edge. "No, the tracks indicate that two people went back the way we came..."

Following, they eventually came to another clearing, this time a still smoking fire could be seen. "And it is here they hobbled the two horses, rested for the night, and then left," Thorn picked up a length of rope. "But he did not go unwillingly this time. Something has changed, Caramon. From the evidence I would say that Raistlin has been tainted by the lies of Miiro and its cohorts."

"Are you saying that he is now trying to run from us?" asked Caramon, unable to believe it.

"Well, he isn't totally unwilling. The extra bits of rope indicate that his bindings are unneccessary, and..." Thorn showed him the tracks. "See how there are one set of tracks going to each horse?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Remember how before there were two sets to one horse before, then a set would walk over to where another was kept," Thorn answered. "Before that indicated that she was likely tying him to the saddlehorn to prevent escape, and then leading that horse. Now, not only are the horses too far away from each other for one to be led, but there is only one set of tracks to each horse, then they leave together in a single file. That tells me that the other person, likely your brother, now goes willingly."

That knowledge dawned on Caramon and he saw what Thorn meant, and his expression turned grim, "We have to find those portals and kill this bitch before he becomes our enemy too."

* * *

The vallenwoods gave way to hills, and those hills began to become more extreme. Soon they could see the mountians of Thorbardin. The leaves were turning color, and then they began to fall. Time was passing, and this time, they came to a town whose short building signified the dwarven people.

Marion hopped off her horse and took the reins from Raistlin's nerveless fingers. The ride had been a hard one when they realized that the chill in the air was the sign of an early fall, and an even earlier winter. If they wished to make their way past Thorbardin before any hope of passage closed to them, they had ridden hard and fast, sometimes through the night, taking time to sleep in the saddle.

Her charger held up under the torture, but she knew that the end of the journey that this set of horses could take them was ending shortly and the tall grey warhorse would be set free to wander the herds again until she needed him again. However, Raistlin's horse, which was not of the same stock was exhausted and they now had to stop for a fresh horse for him.

Even still, her fey horse Avanti still needed to rest sometimes too.

Letting the stableboy take the horses to be cooled off and then fed, she supported Raistlin as they walked into the Inn. A warm bed would be a welcome change anyway. She used the Staff of Magius to push, and hold, open the door as they walked in. Reaching past the counter with it, she also used to push open the kitchen door, "Silf, get out here!"

The wiry dwarf, a build odd for such a race, came out and eyed her, "My lady Miiro, you grace us with your presence again. Who is this with you?"

"This..." she thought for a moment. "If anyone asks, is your _Lord_ Miiro, got me?"

"Clear as crystal, milady," he answered as he wrote that down in the guestbook. "Your usual room, or are you going to be here long enough?"

"That will do, and have the fire stoked a little higher. Lord Miiro likes it warmer than my Southern bones do," she answered. "Boil some water for his tea, please, Silf?"

"Aye, a simple enough task," he left to do as bidden and she let Raistlin sit in a chair near to the fire.

It was thankfully quiet as the men were in the mines, and the women at home. As children had no business in the tavern, there was no one about except for a few elves that were clearly taking a break from their hunting. A dwarf whose beard was just beginning to grow, but yet of the typical build of a dwarf, came out with a few bowls of thick stew and some still warm bread. Sitting it on the small end table by the chair as she peeled off the wet layers from the shivering Raistlin, he said, "He carries the same mark as you, when you feel threatened."

"He knows not of what he carries, Jasper, and so he cannot control it yet. But, the Gods willing, he soon will, and the legacy shall carry on," she answered quietly. "Thank you for the stew, Jasp."

"No problem, Mary," he said as he piled some blankets and pillows beside her that a maid brought. "You don't come around half as often as you should, and you are always welcome. It would so much better if you lived here than in that frigid..."

"Speak not of it, Fireforge," she chided. "Too many ears to hear."

"Aye, milady," he said, then went back to the kitchen.


	4. Chapter Three

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

It was a slow, luxerious, awakening. One that made him vividly aware of the sunshine on his back, and the soft down comforter that he lay under. A crackling sound made him acutely notice that a fire blazed in a fire place. Raistlin groaned as he came fully awake, tormented by dreams of comfort when he knew he was in reality sleeping on the cold, hard ground.

But yet he was still under a comforter and in a large and very soft bed.

He sat bolt upright, ignoring his body that protested violently, to look around the luxery he found himself in.

_Where in the name of Lunitari am I_? he wondered.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, then decided he liked the bed too much and slid back under the warm covers. Burrowing down he realized he was being a bit unlike himself, then he decided he didn't care. He had been on the road too much and his body, and mind, cried out for respite. He was half asleep again, and almost asleep when the door creaked open. Heavy footsteps walked across to the bed and pulled off the covers.

Raistlin stared at the dwarf.

The woman stared right back.

Two seconds later she shrieked and ran out of the room as if all the demons of the Abyss were after her. He watched in morbid fascination, then looked down and realized that he was nude. _I'm not that bad, am I_? he wondered. _Sure, I'm skinny, and that would... shocking to a dwarf, but I am not... that ugly...._

He quickly got up, closed the door, and then buried himself in the thick blankets again. This time he could not fall asleep again. Moments later a knock sounded at the door. "Go away!" he answered.

"Master Miiro, please let me explain the intrusion!" came a voice.

"Explain through the door," called back Raistlin, and then he caught the _Master Miiro_ part.

He got up, wrapped himself in the blankets for decency and went and opened the door, scowling. A dwarf stood there. "Well, what is it?" asked Raistlin.

"May I come in, sir?"

Raistlin sighed in impatience and stepped out the way enough for the young dwarf to come in. He closed the door and the dwarf started right away, "I apologize for the maid. She didn't see you and assumed it was safe to clean the bedding. That is why she came in, and why she, ah, stripped the bed with you in it."

"I see."

"She... ah... was as startled as you, I can assure you."

"I gathered that," answered Raistlin dryly.

"Well then," said the dwarf heading to the door. "I'll just be on my way, then."

"Fine," said Raistlin, opening the door, then he stopped and realized something he had nearly missed. "I didn't catch your name."

"Jasper Fireforge," he answered.

Raistlin clutched the door tightly. A part of him still wanted to escape, and now the perfect opportunity had presented itself. A relation of Flint, if he let them know, would hopefully be happy to help him escape Marion's clutches. Aware that he was staring at Jasper, who in typical dwarven fashion was glaring right back, he said, "Nice to meet you. Where is Marion, and my clothes?"

"Ah, her ladyship is seeing to a different method of transport. Horses will serve no purpose to you in the mountians," he answered. "Your clothes were soaked and too damaged. She also is seeing that they are repaired and laundered, or replaced."

Nodding, Raistlin motioned the dwarf out the door, "Thank you."

He closed the door after the dwarf left, sighed, and then went back to bed.

* * *

Caramon and Thorn had made some progress. Finally they had made it to the half human and half dwarven settlement. He took in a breath and turned to Thorn, "How far back do you think us?"

"Well, according to the tracks, one of the horses was killed by a bugbear, and they had to come here. I saw human blood, so one of them is wounded as well. My guess is that injury will slow them down," Thorn then realized that he had still not answered the question. "Oh, sorry. I think we have caught up with them. Now we simply look for them. They will not have gone far."

Finally allowing himself a breath of relief, Caramon led his horse to an inn.

* * *

Marion was turned the last corner to the inn and stopped dead in her tracks upon spotting the elf. She retreated back around the corner before she could be spotted in turn. _Dammit, no_! she cursed. _I was so close_!

She saw Raistlin's twin come out of the inn and talk to the dark elf. Gritting her teeth she realized that Law had momentarily gained an upper hand. Caramon, she knew, likely thought the dark elf had his best interests in mind. She knew otherwise as once she had thought Manaxis was a likely candidate to succeed her as the Miiro. She had never been more wrong in her extremely long life since she had succeeded Lord Wirend Miiro. Manaxis had likely meant to be a Miiro once, but soon his inclination to Law had won over him, then so had Evil.

It mattered little to her whether he was evil or not, that was the minor Balance in the cosmos. No, it was that he became an outright agent of Law, and unfortunately her enemy. As she had told Raistlin there was a higher balance at stake, and Manaxis had decided his course.

And Raistlin had potential to be one of the greatest Miiros ever chosen.

She touched where the ring used to sit before its theft, "Armor of the Blue Star protect your Guardian."

Feeling the warmth of the transformation as the deeply tanned, nearly olive, skin tone was hidden beneath that of the living armor bestowed upon the Guardians of the Blue Star, she pulled her cloak up over now silver white hair.

Over her now nearly luminescent gold skin.

She slipped behind the inn and into the kitchen where Jasper turned to her in surprise, "My Lady!"

Holding up a silencing finger, she said, "There are riders outside, one named Caramon Majere and the other Manaxis, although he may now go by a different name. Make sure they do not know that we were ever here. Our lives depend on it, Jasper."

"It will be done, Lady Miiro."

With that Jasper left to greet Caramon.

Marion, knowing she had only a limited amount of time, ran up the back stairs, checked the hallway, then ran into the room she shared with Raistlin. He was awake, and she threw the new robes at him. "Put these on, we don't have much time. Our enemies hasten at our door."

Raistlin seemed about to object, but saw her skin, hair and eyes.

His mouth shut and he swiftly dressed. "You and I will have to have a long discussion when we can, Lady."

"I know," she answered, also packing her things, and then she threw open the shutters and looked down. "Shit. You know the spell Feather Fall yet?"

"...No..." he answered.

A grin spread across her face. "You're about to learn."

* * *

Caramon walked around back in time to see the pair drift to the ground and run to the stables. It was the flash of gold skin and white hair that attracted his attention. "Raistlin!" he shouted. "My brother!"

For a moment Raistlin stopped, then turned away from Caramon. For a moment, Caramon was confused, but still he gave chase. The other person mounted a horse, and Raistlin turned slapped the back thigh of the horse to startle it into motion, and ran to another horse. By this time Thorn, alerted that their quarry had been found, had caught up to Raistlin and tackled him into the ground.

Caramon caught up with the pair and pulled Raistlin off the ground. Thorn stood and dusted himself off. "At least we got him away from that bitch."

At this point Raistlin looked up at them, "I am not a bitch. If anything, Manaxis, you are a traitor to the Balance."

Caramon stood there in shock for a full minute as he looked at a female version of his brother, only her gold skin was far brighter and less tarnished looking. It was more gold than Raistlin's brassy shade, hair a little whiter, more platinum than silver. But it was still the woman Marion whom they had chased. "Where is my brother?" demanded Caramon.

"On that horse," answered Miiro. "On his way to fulfill his true destiny. The one for which he was chosen."

"Don't listen to her lies, Caramon," retorted Thorn.

"Why, Manaxis, are you afraid I might call you back to the Balance?" she asked.

"Okay, one thing at a time," Caramon turned to Thorn. "Why does she call you Manaxis?"

"I have no idea," he answered.

"That's his name," answered Miiro.

Caramon looked from the elf to the woman, thinking. They both seemed sincere. They both seemed to be telling the truth. "Where did you send my brother?' he asked her.

"On the mission of the Balance. You see, he," she motioned to Thorn. "Used to be my apprentice. Then he betrayed me and stole the Blue Star which I am charged, as all Miiros are, to protect. He then sold it to a Dragon Highlord..."

"See, who would believe tripe such as that?" asked Thorn. "Come on, who has ever heard of a Dark Elf?"

"I never called you a Dark Elf, Manaxis," said Miiro.

Caramon realized the truth in this just as Manaxis drew his sword on the woman and slew her. In a matter of seconds, as his reflexes called him into action, Caramon had also drawn his. "You lied to me," he said as he crouched into his guard position, sword held in both hands.

"The truth is a mutable thing, Caramon. A matter of perception," countered Manaxis.

With that Manaxis attacked to Caramon's left, and Caramon easily blocked with his sword. A resounding clang occurred as their swords met. Manaxis leapt back and feinted to Caramon's right, then changed his attack to one overhead. Rolling out of the way at the last minute Caramon swung his sword where he had seen the Dark Elf out of the corner of his eye.

His sword cleaved through Manaxis's chest and he fell heavily to the grassy ground. Caramon rolled the elf over to his back and saw that the man was already dead.

Caramon walked over to Miiro and picked her up. The gold was fading and after a few moments she had returned to normal.

He banged hard on the door of the inn, "Someone help me! Lady Miiro is wounded gravely!"

That attracted attention as both the dwarf he had dealt with before in this inn who had claimed to have not of heard of Miiro nor of Raistlin, and a skinnier dwarf he knew as the owner, came running out. The younger knelt and said, "It is very bad. Bring her inside."

Caramon carried the golden skinned woman inside and laid her on the table there. It was then when he noticed that the gold appeared to be melting off her. Running away and draining as if melting and receding into her olive shaded pores. "What in the name of the departed Gods?" he muttered in amazement.

Even her hair was darkening to its former black. Now that he could see what she looked like beneath the golden skin, he could see that she was not of the plains as he had previously guessed, but most likely of the desert. Of roaming bands of nomads on creatures called camels...

Jasper cut away the clothing and they could see the wound. It was an ugly piercing in her chest, but luckily, not near her heart. It was closer to her shoulder and when Jasper soaked the wound in alcohol, she moaned. He held out a flask to Caramon, "Get her to drink this. It should kill the pain and make her sleep."

Caramon unstoppered the flask and pulled his nose away from it sharply, "What is that?!"

"Dwarf spirits," answered Jasper tersely. "Well come on, we don't have all day."

Caramon held the flask to Miiro's lips and managed to get her to swallow it in a few gulps. A short time after she relaxed and Jasper was able to carry out his work without her moving away from his hands. A few hours later Jasper dressed her wound and they carried the woman to the suite where, unbeknownst to Caramon, Raistlin had been sleeping in mere hours before. Afterwards, he turned to Jasper, "I need a horse to catch up with my brother. Can you help me?"

"I might be able to," answered Jasper. "But on horseback you would never catch up with Avanti."

"Avanti?"

"Her horse. Bred by the elves, it was rumored, but I don't think that even they have horses such as this charger," Jasper stratched his chin speculatively. "You will have to talk to Mary once she wakes up. She may be able to call him back."

Caramon settled himself into waiting.

* * *

Even though he rode to the South alone her words, her mission, rang in his ears.

_To preserve the Balance, more is required than simply Good and Evil. You must also balance Law and Chaos. For if they are ever to walk the face of Krynn, or any other place within the megaverse, destruction will surely follow. Such is the Charge of the Miiro_.

The Balance was not an unfamiliar concept to him. He had been charged with protecting that precious balance in the Tower of Magi. The charger seemed to know what paths to take, but eventually, they reached an impasse. Raistlin dismounted the great horse, and tapped him on the shoulder. "I know you can understand me, and that you know you can't carry me any further. I release you to return to the Miiro."

The Charger did not move.

"Didn't you hear me?" asked Raistlin.

The horse merely pawed at the ground and tossed its proud white head. Raistlin muttered, "Maybe I was putting to much stock into how intelligent you really are..."

"_I am perfectly intelligent_..." came a voice out of nowhere.

Raistlin stared at the horse which seemed like it luminesced while he looked at it into a platinum sheen. "What in the name of Lunitari _are_ you?"

"_I am what they call a Day Mare_," it answered. "_A steed of dreams. A steed of the mists, and of the powers of Solinari, Wizard who was of the Red Moon, the Blood Moon_."

"A Day Mare?" he asked. "Of Solinari and you consented to carry me?"

"_I carry whom I wish, Wizard of the Balance. Your Master has now changed since accepting this mission. Your Test is past, and you have proved your faith. But the lessons are not complete until you are the Guardian. It is my charge to carry you as you learn what it truly is to be the Guardian_."

"Guardian of what?"

"_Of the Balancing Star_," came the Mare's answer. "_Of the Blue Star_."


	5. Chapter Four

Lady Valura: Probably ;) I started this a few years ago, then stopped writing after Chapter Five. Then I wrote True Sight Saga 1: Dark Uncle and True Sight Saga: Summer of Flame and a few chapters of True Sight Saga 3: The Hard Path as well as a side story concerning the son of Crysania, Sir Duane. 

Now, hopefully I haven't 'spoiled' a future fic for anyone, lol.

* * *

Chapter Four 

_

* * *

A few months later_

Marion had completely recovered and was restless. Caramon watched the regal looking woman pace in front of the fireplace and then she turned to him and said, "There is much more at stake than one life. I am talking the lives of everyone, of everything."

"There isn't much you can do," he pointed out. "Raistlin has... what was your charger's name?"

"Avanti," she answered.

"Raistlin has Avanti with him. You are stranded here as much as I am," Caramon pointed out the window into the howling winds of the winter blizzard that had clogged the roads. "It is up to him now."

But he too looked out into the harsh winds with concern.

* * *

The Day Mare had brought him as far as she could, but when the snows were too deep even for a steed of made of dreams, she left him in Tarsis for the Winter. He watched as far as he could as she disappeared out of sight, then into the shimmers that he knew meant that her form had returned into the dream of which she was made.

He turned to face the city that confronted him and walked the streets until he found an inn. Entering, he shook the snow from his hair and from his cloak and boots. Walking over to the counter the barman said, "We don't serve your kind here."

With a sigh, Raistlin returned to the cold and looked for another inn. It was his luck that he found none. Clutching his sleeves and feeling the cold creep into his joints he wondered if he was going to survive this. He was stranded, his clothes were not made for this weather, he had no food, nothing to drink, his spell components were nearly gone, and he had no money.

_This has to be some sort of test. I rode a Day Mare here, for Lunitari's sake_, he grumbled mentally. _The Gods wouldn't leave me out here to die in the cold. This is just a... challenge to see how I would handle an extreme situation_...

_Right_?

No answer was forthcoming. Raistlin wandered for awhile, knowing that to keep moving was to stay warm when the flickering lights of a church attracted his attention. He walked into the, although very solid, crumbling building and into a sudden wall of warmth. There was no religious symbols but for a single blue colored star in a void. He walked up to the alter.

"I had a feeling you would come," came a voice behind him.

Raistlin whirled around, and then dizziness assailed him. The man ran up to him and supported him as he helped Raistlin to sit in one of the benches. A throbbing in his skull told him that a fever had set in. It was likely from the cold.

_Just what I need_... was Raistlin's last conscious thought before passing out. _Now I'm sick_.

* * *

Marion was getting more antsy. It was the only word Caramon could call it. She was restless now that her wounds were completely healed. Much to his curiosity, she had not turned gold like his brother since the incident. Caramon yearned to know how that could be but was not overly wanting to ask. Something about that made him flinch.

She finally turned to Caramon and said, "Do as you will, but I am leaving. I must return to my duty."

He looked up from his meal in shock, "What? What about my brother? You can't just leave! Without you to help me I might never find him!"

"That is your problem, not mine," she replied cooly as she began to gather her things into her saddlebags and a small packsack.

He watched as she checked the strange curved sword. "I think you need a new sword, in the very least. At least wait until a new one can be made!" he pointed out desperately.

"There is nothing wrong with my scimitar, Caramon, it is meant to look like that," came her exasperated voice from down the hall.

Damn, she moved fast.

Caramon hurried to catch up, and blocked her off at the stairs down to the common room, "Then at least wait for me."

Hands on her hips, she glared at him, "I am not going after Raistlin. You would be quicker to go after him yourself, and as you said, all venues are closed until Spring. I go to the East. Things are happening in Neraka that require my attention -- and Raistlin is likely in Tarsis which is nearly directly South from here."

"I can't change your mind?"

"No. You cannot."

With that he watched her leave and a feeling of dread came over him and he chased after her, "Okay, look. I don't care where you are going. Let me come with you."

The look on her face was of sheer amazement, and now she was curious. "What in the name of the Abyss is your problem?"

Caramon shuffled his feet, and an unintelligible mumble was his answer. Marion ducked her head and said, "What was that? I didn't quite catch that."

"I've never been on my own before," he admitted. "Someone was always with me, whether Raistlin, Kit, Tanis... or even Thorn."

Her eyes opened wide and she took a deep breath, suddenly understanding. Laying both hands on his shoulders she said, "Look, kid, you can't walk through life the entire time with someone always holding your hand. Someday you are going to have to walk your path by yourself. When that day comes the better you will be if you have done so for a little while. I can take you as far as Solace. I do hope someone will be there that you know."

Caramon nodded, relieved. _Maybe on the trip there I can convince her to stick around, not go East. Maybe once the Spring comes she would be willing to go with me_...

"Go pack your things," she sighed. "I want to get back on the road as soon as possible."

* * *

Waking was a slow process for Raistlin. Snatches of memory and of someone giving him water and thin broth was hazy. But when he awoke it was to the realization that he had lost at least a few days if his body told him anything. Sitting up weakly he looked around and the man he remembered from the sanctuary came over, "My Lord, I am glad to see you recovered."

"Where am I?"

"In the last temples of Matheri," answered the priest. "Although not many believe anymore... and Matheri has not answered prayers in a very, very long time. Except by way of the Miiro."

_Matheri_... _Majere?!_ realized Raistlin... And the irony was enough to make him laugh for a moment.

When he regained control, "I'm sorry. I just found it incredibly ironic. My name, that is, my surname is Majere."

The cleric nodded in understanding, "Ah, yes, I would find that ironic as well... especially for one in your... ah... position."

"But I thought Majere's symbol was the rose with a star in it?" asked Raistlin, mildly confused.

"The rose, yes, but Majere has always been, and always will, be associated with the Miiro. Majere is represented by the rose and Miiro the star hidden within its confines," answered the cleric. "Oh, forgive me. My name is Thaniel."

"Raistlin."

"Pleased to meet you," the cleric bowed. "But I am confused to what happened to the Lady Miiro?"

"I don't know," answered Raistlin, quite truthfully. "All I know is that I ended up on a Day Mare which brought me this far, and Marion was left behind after being accosted by an elf."

The man's head dropped in sorrow, "Ah, he did catch to her after all. But... do you have the ring?"

"Ring?" asked Raistlin in confusion. "No, she said we were after a ring. I assume it to the one you speak of."

Thaniel nodded his head. "Yes, the Blue Star itself. The star that is in the rose. Come with me..."

Raistlin got up, and with Thaniel's help, was dressed in robes that were more for the climate. They were the thickest velvet and colored grey and blue. While he was somewhat curious as to the colors, he supposed it was all they had. Much to his relief, however, the robes were composed of different layers.

The first layer were simple cotton underwear. The next layer was of heavy linen, white of all colors... and was a pair of pants and a shirt. He assumed this was to keep his skin from sweating and to have a layer that could breathe. It was a smart idea, one he would have to keep in mind.

Except not in white.

Then there was a middle layer, again, of a pair of pants that were a type of cotton that was so heavily woven and so much like leather only more pliable it could almost be used as leather armor. This was more form fitting although not skin tight. To his relief, it was in stone grey which was at least the color of neutrality, even if it was the cleric's neutral and not the wizards. Also he put on a long sleeve tunic shirt of the same material that had a rather neat collar that was straight up and very short and the entire shirt buttoned up the front. It was like wearing robes that were a bit shorter as the tunic fell to his mid-hip.

The final layer was not quite robes, but close enough. He wore a pair of loose fitting dark grey of a linen and cotton weave. They were heavy, and rugged, obvious for hard use but clean cut for wearing about. The tunic was longer and fell to just below his knees, only the cut was slit up both sides until just below the other tunic's cut. Over this was a minimal tabard that was silver grey with red rose leaves embroidered into the border. On each corner was a circle. The cleric then tied a sash around his waist to draw in all in.

Raistlin was then allowed to look in a mirror. He had to stare twice. He looked like a cleric of Lunitari, if those ever existed. Also the entire look was not quite of robes. To Raistlin's eyes the entire ensemble was very Eastern. Even of the isles of the extreme East where such... ah... yes... kimonos! That was what this was. Only it was the masculine version, even of the samurai order when not in armor.

Of course, this was conjecture as he had only read of them in books, but this did seem like that style of clothes.

Thaniel then tied Raistlin's white hair into a pony tail on the back off his head. Drawing back to look at his handiwork, he remarked, "You look like my brother would if he was ever touched by the Gods."

"Thanks, I think," said Raistlin. "Now, what was it you wanted to show me?"

Thaniel showed him the window and drew the curtains. Looking out into the night sky, Thaniel pointed up to the rose constellation. "See Matheri?"

"Yes," answered Raistlin.

"What is he missing?"

For a moment Raistlin was a bit confused, then he saw it. He gasped, "The star in the bud is gone."

Thaniel nodded. "And so is the Miiro."

* * *

Marion jumped from the horse and moments later Caramon joined her on the ground as they drew up to Flint Fireforge's stone house. "All this town and he is the only on the ground?" she asked.

"Yes, well, he doesn't like heights and he believes that only stone should be used to make a house," answered Caramon.

"How like a dwarf," Marion said as she tied the horse to the tree closest to the door.

She knocked imperiously on the door. When it opened to reveal the older dwarf, she said, pointing to Caramon as she did so, "Do you know this young man?"

Flint glared at Caramon who struggled not to flinch, then his eyebrows nearly reached his scalp, he answered, "Aye, that I do. Why, what has he done now?"

"That's all I wanted to know," she said as she turned to Caramon and remounted her horse. "There, now you're with friends. Be safe, Majere. Our paths separate _permanently_ here."

With that she gave her horse the nudge to get moving, and as fast as that horse could move, left along the South road. Caramon watched her go, this time too fast for him to even lift a finger to object. Just like that she disappeared, likely forever. He turned to Flint, "Boy, do I have a story to tell you. I'm not sure if _I_ believe it..."

* * *

Two hours later, and a mug of ale, Caramon finished his tale. Flint leaned back in his chair and chewed on a piece of licorice in thought. "And you say she was dead and came back?"

"I swear it. I've never seen the like," maintained Caramon. "My brother is missing, thanks to her, but now I have no idea if he is still in Tarsis, dead, or somewhere else."

"I thought you said he was?"

"I said he was headed that way the last time either Lady Miiro or I saw him," clarified Caramon. "Now, whether he made it there or was sidetracked, I don't know. And it's been over two months. I'm beginning to worry."

Flint chewed some more on the licorice, deep in thought. "Two months is not that long, especially for a trip that long. And if that horse is as special as you saw, he got there. What he has to do there is the puzzle. Did she ever say?"

"No," answered Caramon miserably. "Other than that Raistlin is supposed to be her successor, whatever than means, and that she is the Miiro, I have no idea what is going on. I don't even know what this 'Miiro' is supposed to be!"

"Long ago, as a lad younger than you are now, I remember hearing a tale," Flint began.

* * *

"All I know is that for some reason I am the next Miiro," said Raistlin. "Supposedly, this is my test. I have no idea what is involved or what I am to do. I don't even know, beyond the basic reasoning that the greater balance is not good or evil, but of Law and Chaos, and that the Miiro is the midpoint between the two entities. Abyss, I didn't even know that they were Entities until she educated me on that point. Beyond that I am completely clueless."

Thaniel listened patiently, "Then allow me to finish that training. You see, this temple is the repository of the Miiro. The truth is we are a monastary of Matheri who agreed to train those who need help in learning their path, whether of Matheri or of Miiro."

"For what army?"

"No army except that of one: The Miiro," answered Thaniel. "You see, this is where every Miiro was trained, or at least, in a place like this. I am only here to make sure your needs are tended to. It is your test, and your calling, to become the Miiro."

* * *

"Once, in the dawn of time," began Flint. "There was a man and a woman. The man liked to create, but never did finish anything. The woman did. And what she finished, he destroyed. What he destroyed... well, no one knows what came of that. All we know is that there was no peace. The man was Chaos, the Creator. The woman was Law, the Organizer. From these two came the Gods we know, but only until Reorx was created could Krynn, as we know it, be."

"The Miiro is to be the mediator of Law and Chaos," explained Thaniel as he led Raistlin down stairs to a large room.

Once those doors were opened, light came, but no source could be seen.

* * *

"One of Gilean's children sought to bring peace between to the two warring factions of Law and Chaos," continued Flint. "However, they were both finished, at the same time, casting two devastating spells that would tear asunder Reorx's Krynn. This child of Gilean jumped to stop it."

Caramon leaned in and Flint continued, "The Child save Krynn by allowing itself to be torn asunder. The Gods came together, as both the greater parents were weakened, and somehow detained Chaos and Law. Unfortunately, Miiro's essence was fragmented and thrown in thousands of scattered bits across the cosmos. It is said, that if there is a world with people on it like that of Krynn, that a fragment rests on each world and beyond. But I digress."

* * *

"What is a Miiro?"

Thaniel smiled warmly and said, "Not a Miiro, the Miiro. At least, for Krynn. Every so often a fragment of a sundered God is said to be given to a mortal, making them not quite mortal. Some live life without ever knowing they are God-touched, or more accurately, God-heirs."

* * *

"Sometimes the fragment rests in mortal children before birth. Some never know unless something truly climatic happens to bring it out," said Flint. "Usually, when that happens under normal circumstances that person would be dead, but they don't die. Often they walk from it unscathed."

Caramon leaned back, "That is even more hard to believe."

Flint shrugged, "That's the legend, as I know it, of the only Miiro I have heard of." 

"Sounds more like myth. Raistlin? A God? Come on, Flint, that will never happen."

* * *

Raistlin stared at the man in shock, "Are you saying that I'm a God?"

"More accurately a demi-god," answered Thaniel. "But only if you let it happen, and only if you can find the Blue Star and reach that destiny. Only then will you have that key."

"So what happens until then?"

"Until then you train yourself to face anything that agents of Chaos and Law can throw at you."

* * *

I guess we know where Raistlin got the idea to become a God...

Just so you know, Marion isn't dead, nor has she disappeared off the map completely. Even if she never makes a reappearance in this story again, this story was meant to be a short duology. It was also the background for the Role-Play I was in where Marion bailed us out of the worst situations we could get ourselves into. Even though she was no longer the Miiro, she was still an Adventurer, and an Agent of the Miiro. We never met Raistlin... yet.


	6. Chapter Five

**_

* * *

Chapter Five_**

_

* * *

Spring_

Raistlin stretched after waking and making his bed. Thaniel had gone into the city to buy supplies again. Not that he was likely going to find any as there seemed to be a gathering of supplies to the square that was kept under close watch. Inhaling as he moved into a pose called the Triangle he wondered why they were doing so. 

In the months that had been the winter he had learned much about his duty as the Miiro even without having the Blue Star in his possession. With an exhale he moved from that pose into the cross legged sitting position for his meditation.

It was funny really, he thought as he slipped into what he had nicknamed the "Meditative Snooze." That in becoming a bit more fit physically his mind seemed a bit sharper, more quicker and able to focus. If all schools of magic taught this magic would definately be far more formidible a discipline. Abyss, he even found that memorization came easier and sometimes the memory of the spell cast actually remained for awhile after, allowing him to re-memorize the spell before he forgot it completely.

That had _greatly_ simplified his life.

Now, instead of using tremendous amounts of energy memorizing, he could concentrate on learning new spells and, now, learning other pursuits in case he ran out of spells. One such pursuit was the first time Thaniel laid the sword in his hands.

_

* * *

Earlier, Late Winter_

Raistlin stood up from the meditation that had become part of his morning waking process in the past months and stretched to get the kinks of of his joints. Thaniel was late meeting him this morning and he had gone ahead to the library to read up on the history of Ansalon. Much of it was written in Marion's own hand and was absolutely fascinating.

Marion had been born Lady Marion Uth Malaste of Ergoth, daughter of Lord Uth Thelwaite, an Imperial Highlord who travelled to oversee various units. Her mother had been a high-born cleric of Paladine who, after serving her required years in the temple, had married Lord Uth Thelwaite. Shortly before the War of the Rose, and five years after Marion was born, Lord Uth Thelwaite had been reassigned to Tarsis. There they stayed and built the Thelwaite Manor. The aging Knight and his wife had many sons and daughters after Marion, and she lived in relative happiness as the eldest child.

However, that happiness ended with the rebellion.

Thelwaite Manor was besieged by mobs who took out their anger on the old Imperial Ergothian representive. Lord Thelwaite, and his family had been dragged out and burned at the stake.

At that point Raistlin had to go to the privy and be violently ill, but he returned to read more.

It was here that she discovered that she had been born touched by a fragment of the Sundered God upon being touched by the flames of the stake she had been tied to. Her skin flared gold and, although her gown burned, she did not. She still passed out from the heat, and the people thought her dead, but she awakened later to discover the burned husks of her family.

At that point, she was only seventeen.

Raistlin leaned back in the chair and marvelled at the fact that she had not been driven insane, but at least he now half understood why she felt the need to be near her home. Even if the memories were painful it was still _home_.

Thaniel walked in at this point, "You read her history."

"The first part of it, I think. She kept it truncated and without her usual detail," sighed Raistlin. "But I can see why. I wouldn't want to even remember it if they did the same to me. How did she ever survive that?"

Shrugging, Thaniel answered, "She found her solace in helping others and writing down what she saw and who she met so that none were forgotten. That is why so many of Miiro's books are in libraries across the continent. For someone no one has remembered meeting in person she is rather famous among scholars."

Raistlin nodded, "That I see. I keep a journal as well, but I cannot imagine mine being picked apart by scribes and copied letter for letter, then distributed, like hers have been."

"I have something for you. Your style in battle seems suited for this weapon..." Thaniel walked to the small dojo. "While I concentrate on the styles of fighting of my homeland, I can train in others. Marion preferred that of the desert nomads, and that was her choice. I practiced with her as well."

"Have you taught other Miiro's?" asked Raistlin, crinkling his brows. "I thought you were human?"

"Oh no, I only appear human," answered Thaniel. "And my true name is likely unpronoucible by your kind. Even elves can't."

Raistlin took a breath and released it, and Thaniel continued, "I have only trained Marion, though I have met her predessor, and sometimes he still comes around. Once an Agent of the Miiro, always an Agent, even if not the Miiro. Someday, my friend, you will also find your successor."

"Marion's predessor would have only been from around the time of Starbirth," pointed out Raistlin. "It's been thousands of years. Abyss, for all I know you could even be a dragon..."

Thaniel stopped walking and stared at Raistlin and, at that point, Raistlin realized that he had pretty much guessed it very well. After a few moments he began walking again and Raistlin hurried to catch up. "So, what kind of a dragon are you?" he asked.

"One that should really know better."

That ended the conversation.

Thaniel led Raistlin down a set of stairs until they were in the room where he had been training. Picking the thin scabbard from the rack, and respectfully bowing slightly, he then turned and held it out to Raistlin, both hands held palm up.

Raistlin picked up the scabbard and slowly put one hand on the hilt of the sword, slowly pulling out the sword as he did so. It was a thin, lightweight blade, razor sharp on only one side and carved with runes. The hilt was carefully wrapped in thick silk that interweaved to make a tightly woven pattern of blue and silver. The blade was curved slightly, but not to the extreme of Marion's scimitars. He held the blade up, marvelling at the workmanship and the enchantments laid upon it. "This... is no ordinary sword..."

"It has been folded and hammered out over three hundred times, that gives the steel suppleness and the sharpness. These kinds of swords, even the unenchanted or unblessed ones, could cut through Abanasinian swords like butter. I know, I have seen them used in battle," answered Thaniel. "It is called a katana."

For a moment Raistlin was confused, and Thaniel clarified, "It's the type of sword it is, like a scimatar is a scimatar or a bastard sword is a bastard sword. A katana is a katana."

He nodded his understanding, "What kind of enchantment is on the sword?"

"Well, from what I have been able to figure out, it's a flame blade," answered Thaniel with a shrug. "Other than that, I'm not overly sure on what else there is."

Raistlin nodded as he resheathed the sword. Thaniel helped him to tie the sword where it belonged on his hip and also showed where else he could wear the scabbard depending on the situation. Then they took the scabbard from him and walked, with Raistlin carrying his sword, back to his cell where he put the scabbard on a rack made for it. With a small bow he followed the monk back to the training room. This time Thaniel took out two wooden representations of the katana, and said, "These are bokken. You will learn how to use the bokken before I let you use that katana..."

Inwardly, Raistlin groaned, knowing that it would be a very long time before he ever laid hands on his sword except to clean it...

_

* * *

Spring_

That, of course, had been months ago and Raistlin had passed from using the bokken to using the katana. Using the katana in the katas were a challenge as, although the bokken and the katana were of the same weight and of similiar balance, the katana sliced through air better so Raistlin had to get used to how the sword moved.

He had also learned that while the blade was light and thin compared to his brother's bastard sword that the katana was ten times sharper and quicker to handle. He sighed as he finished this last kata.

Musing on things, he realized that it had been a very long time since he last had a coughing fit or some other fit to remind him of his frailty. Looking around he noticed that things still aged in his sight, so he still had the hourglass eyes. A deeper sigh exited his lungs as he sat down on the mats on the floor as Thaniel walked in. "You seem troubled," he said.

"All of this, and except for my health, I am still cursed."

"The hourglass eyes? Yes, I would imagine that would take a long time in going away, once whatever you must do to get rid of them is done," mused Thaniel.

Raistlin pointed out his face and hair, "And what of this?"

For a moment Thaniel looked puzzled, "You mean you don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"You you told me that you had parted company with Marion, I had not realized what you meant... that's armor, my boy, the Armor of the Miiro, your mark of Guardianship. It's how she found you," he explained, then he shook his head. "I guess you also do not know how to dismiss it."

"I can dismiss it?!" Raistlin stood up quickly, turning to Thaniel as the dragon in man form walked around him. "How?"

"I'm not sure," said Thaniel. "I've never been asked how, nor ever considered it. My guess is that deep inside you would tell yourself that it is not required for the moment."

Again Raistlin was left feeling a bit frustrated. To have that hope dangled in front of him only to have it snatched away just as fast was beginning to fray his nerves. He gritted his teeth in frustration and felt Thaniel's hand on his shoulder. He brushed it off angrily and stalked to his cell. Once there he stared at himself harshly in the mirror. "Well, come on then," he said, sarcastically, angrily. "I'm not in danger. I don't need you. _Go away_."

It didn't budge.

He cursed loudly and threw himself on his bed. His breath caught and he began to cough, hacking until he saw spots in front of his eyes. He fumbled around for a bit before finding the pouch at his belt and breathing in the herbs that calmed the coughing fit. Finally, he fell asleep still in his clothes, sword in one hand, Staff of the Magius in the other.

* * *

He awoke some time later feeling a bit better. Getting up and walking over to the nightstand he splashed some water on his face, brushing the strands of auburn hair out of his eyes, grumbling as they turned grey in his sight.

Then froze in shock as he caught sight of his pale, but regular pale, flesh on his hands. He ignored the effects of the hourglass eyes as he stared at them in wonder, knowing them to be his own hands, but still not quite able to believe the sight before him. Ever so slowly he began to look up into the mirror, hoping but not quite daring to look in the mirror, afraid to see what he would see there.

When he finally opened one sky pale blue eye, then the other, he opened them wide in surprise at the sight in the mirror.

He was normal again.

_Normal_.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight, even if the sight was aging and he was seeing himself grow into an old man, it was better than seeing him grow into an old man with gold skin. A rare smile touched his lips as he found himself brushing back his hair and rubbing his face.

Raistlin was still very, very thin from his Test, and he still had the hourglass eyes, but they were in a set of blue eyes, not gold. Those eyes looked out from a face of pale flesh colored skin, with his long dark auburn hair. Looking at the sight in the mirror he would have never guessed he was cursed if not for the blue hourglass eyes.

But, then again, one had to look very close at his eyes to see said curse.

The smile spread as he cleaned himself up and smoothed out his clothes. He tied the katana to his belt and took the Staff in his hands, almost whistling to himself as he did so. Then he left his cell and went in search of Thaniel. He found him in the small dining hall of the monestary. Thaniel looked up and his eyes widened, "I see you have figured out the last step, Guardian."

"Last step?" asked Raistlin in puzzlement.

"Yes," Thaniel smiled a bit sadly. "Marion came to me with the same problem, but once she had learned all she could from me, the armor faded. I see the same with you. I have taught you everything I can teach you. You can still come back for shelter and aid, but your path now lies outside of these walls."

For a moment Raistlin was speechless, then, when he had found his voice, he asked, "When do I have to leave?"

Thaniel shrugged, "There is no rush, but, no matter what, you will feel the tug, the call, to wander the lands."

He walked over to Raistlin, laying both hands on his shoulders, "I hope your roads are not too difficult, but I can tell by the very nature of them that they will not be easy. Matheri watch over you, Guardian."

"And he you," murmured Raistlin.

* * *

A short time later after being given time to rest, clean himself up, pack and supply himself, Raistlin stood outside the doors of the monestary. He looked back once, then turned away. If he remembered correctly, Marion had said something to the Dark Elf Manaxis about the Blue Star being sold to a 'Dragon Highlord' far in the South. His path likely lay that way since it was now his responsibility to find the Blue Star and return it to where it belonged.

He walked out of Tarsis and looked over the trackless desert dunes, his camel nudging him. He got the feeling that it wasn't going to be an easy journey. Like extreme cold, extreme heat also had a habit of tiring him quicker than normal and the desert nomads were not a welcoming sort to strangers.

In a rare moment of concern, he wondered what Caramon was doing...

* * *

Raistlin needn't have worried about his twin. Caramon, without having to travel with his brother, was doing something he had not had to do in quite some time, but enjoyed even while it was hard work. Even though it was Springtime in Solace, people still required firewood for the cool late spring nights.

And Flint needed wood for his forge.

So Caramon helped the other woodcutters in the forests around Solace by using his great bulk, strength and endurance by driving the wood filled wagons back into town where he there piled the wood into great piles. Then he drove the horse drawn wagons back to where the trees were being felled.

He sighed in the noontime sun, taking a sip of the water. It had been a good six months since he had last seen and sign of his brother, seven if he included the time he had been trying to track him and Marion.

It had been the longest stretch of time that he had been separated from Raistlin in his entire life, if one did not include the time that he had gone with Tasslehoff and Sturm and been kidnapped by the minotaurs. He smiled. Then it had been Raistlin with Tanis and Flint who had tracked them down. He could see the worry that had been relaxed off of Raistlin once Caramon had been found.

And now the shoe was on the other foot, as it were. Only now there was absolutely nothing that Caramon could do in the search of his brother, not even knowing where he was.

He continued his work and went to Flint's and sat down in the chair, seeing Tanis there. Undoubtably Flint had just explained to Tanis that Raistlin was missing. "Hello, Caramon, how are you holding up?"

"I'm holding," answered Caramon.

"So... where's Raistlin?"

Caramon looked from Tanis to Flint and back to Tanis again, "I don't know. I haven't seen him for seven months."

"Seven months?" Tanis looked at Caramon. "What happened?"

"He was kidnapped, then, when I caught up with the kidnapper I found out that it was willingly," said Caramon. "He's gone South, and Marion went once accompanying me here."

Tanis leaned back against the wall, "South and East... sounds like they would eventually meet anyway. She would have to cut across the deserts, and so would he... eventually. It isn't too late to go after him. Did Flint tell you of the portals we used?"

"He did," said Caramon, with a shrug. "So did Raistlin when I asked how you three got to Ogrebond in the first place."

"So? There has to be more of them," said Tanis. "Now, while he's gone willingly, perhaps he has gone after something that magic clearly may have the advantage over a sword. But I can see that you plainly want to find him and help him, and if so, I'll go with you."

Flint nodded his assent, "While against better judgement, I will go with you as well."

Caramon stood up taking each of their hands, before hugging Tanis again. "Just like old times," he said.


	7. Interlude

A/N: Everything else before this was written before Summer of Flame, then for some reason I stopped. Everything from here is new.

* * *

Interlude

* * *

Dust as far as the eye could see.

If anyone was to ask what Raistlin saw once he had reached the Plains of Dust he could honestly tell them that the desert did not age in his cursed sight. There was nothing to age but sand, dust, and more sand and dust and a brilliant blue sky.

It was an interesting contrast if stark. The dunes were pale gold, sometimes white depending on how the glare hit the sand and the sky was a brilliant sapphire blue at all times. And it was so dry that Raistlin was very glad that he had brought as much water as he could carry and a map to the scattered oasis that were in the deserts.

He was also very happy that he had decided not to wear his heavy red robes and wear the light sandy colored woolen robes the desert dwellers preferred. He even had wrapped his head to keep the sand out of his eyes, nose and mouth.

Raistlin had also discovered that riding a camel was not near as comfortable as riding a horse and so walked while leading the camel.

A week had been spent crossing endless dunes, and although it didn't show, he was worried.

His water was running low and he was still a few days out from the nearest oasis...

* * *

In the meantime, farther to the North and still in familiar territory, the three companions who followed Raistlin's trail had made it as far as where Caramon and Thorn had finally caught up to Marion and Raistlin in the dwarven town. Caramon led them even to the same inn and they sat gathered around a table near the fire. "It's going to be a hot autumn," said Tanis, leaning back in the chair.

Caramon nodded and sipped his ale while staring into the fire, and Flint asked, "You seem to be elsewhere, Caramon, what is it?"

"It seems like I was just here a little while ago," he answered quietly. "I last saw Raistlin in the back as he rode off without me."

The other two companions were quiet, and Tanis said, "Look, not to be the Queen's Advocate or anything, but he can take care of himself."

"I know but... he's been really, very sick since the Test... and how can I be sure that he isn't lying in some cave somewhere, sick and alone and too weak to find help?" Caramon swallowed nervously. "What if we can't find him?"

"I'm sure he's fine," said Tanis again. "Raistlin has a way of surviving, and trust me, he's stubborn that way. Do you really, after all he's been through, think he'll actually allow himself to simply die?"

With a small smile, Caramon shook his head in the negative, "No, he wouldn't."

* * *

He looked up at the sun one last time, then closed his eyes against the glare. With that one motion he fell from the back of the camel to lay motionless in the sand. He didn't know how long he lay there with the camel circling in ever wider circles before finally he could no longer see it. With that he closed his eyes...

... A few hours... days?... it even felt like a week had gone by and then finally he felt someone roll him over and in a language he was not familiar with he heard a conversation around him...

"Is he dead, father?" asked the first young man.

The older man shook his head as he lifted the pale stranger's head to help him drink the water. The young man, if he judged correctly, coughed more back up than he got down his throat. Finally pale blue eyes in the shape of hourglasses opened to half heartedly train themselves on the desert man. A bit shaken by the unusual and likely cursed eyes, the old man laid his hands over the stranger's eyes and said in his own language, "Be still, young one, you are safe now. It was written that I find you."

The stranger stilled and his breaths fell quiet and even. The old man turned to his son, "Help me lift him, Khaleed."

The son, the first young man, named Khaleed helped his father to lift the pale stranger back on the camel they had found wandering the sands. They had known that it could mean only one thing; someone had gotten lost in the endless sands. Ordinarily Jafir would have left the camel be, but they had then seen the tracks clearly in the shifting sands. Jafir recognized this as a sign from his ancestors and of the departed Gods that he had been meant to find the stranger and help him to recover. They had followed the too clear and too perfect to be natural tracks back to the young man laying in the sand...

...Which was why Jafir and his son Khaleed now tied the pale man to the back of the camel and led them back to their nomadic camp. The men of the nomadic village ran to greet Jafir and Khaleed and then saw the sand covered stranger. Conversations that the pale man undoubtedly did not understand as they were carried on in their own native language were held...

* * *


	8. Chapter Six

**A/N**: I hope everyone likes the parts to come, because they took a lot of research to get right into the Bedouin, the dress, the culture, and the names. With that said, enjoy a departure from the typical Dragonlance tale, because I don't think the desert tribes have really been explored this way....

* * *

Chapter Six

* * *

"Is it not written that if a man goes missing in the Sun's Anvil that our Prophet has called him away from the mortal world and that we should allow his passing?" demanded one of the elders of the village.

Jafir brushed off the comment easily, "I understand your concern, Prince Hassan, but, is it not also written that if a man is meant to find the one missing that he has been called back to us?"

Hassan thinned his eyes. "I will bow to your wisdom in this, Sheikh, but understand that one false step by your accursed 'Pale Stranger' will mean his swift death."

"I understand clearly, Prince," with the stress on the title as Jafir, Sheikh of the Ten Tribes, bowed slightly to make it very clear that as far as he was concerned the conversation was finished.

Jafir moved into the back of his tent into the inner rooms to see how his wives and daughters were faring with making the sick and weak stranger return to health. "How is he?" he asked his first and eldest wife.

"He is very weak, my lord," she answered quietly. "I fear that if you and your son had not found him when you had it would have been too late."

"It was the will of our Prophet," he murmured.

"Indeed, Jafir, it was," she said equally as quiet as they watched the stranger sleep with the herbs he had been given.

* * *

Raistlin woke next to a parched mouth and nearly a dozen pillows, as well as the sensation of motion. His eyes, which seemed almost too heavy to open from the haze that he lay in, only opened enough to see that he was in some sort of a wagon. Either way, it was truly small and there was only one other person in said 'wagon', a woman who was dressed head to toe in some sort of robes that he had never seen before. She moved over to him, and he looked up to see that she wore a veil over her face in the same sheer fabric, "Are you thirsty, Wanderer?"

"Yes... extremely," he managed to croak out as she brought a waterskin to his lips.

He was relieved to find that it was only water, but to him it was sweeter than any elven wine he had ever tasted. He fell back into the pillows, and whispered, "Thank you, it appears I am in your debt, my lady."

With much bemusement in her voice, she corrected him, "No, you are not. You owe your life to my father and his son who found you, and to the Departed Ancestors who led them to you. I merely follow his wishes in making sure you live long enough to reach the next oasis."

Raistlin thought about that, and then asked, "When do we find this next oasis?"

"Before the sun sets," she answered.

That pretty well ended the conversation. In between the motion of the back of the cart pulled by the horse, the peaceful quiet, and the vague opulence that he lay in, he fell asleep again. He awoke sharply again to darkness, and the fact that he was now in a tent and this time a man sat by him. "My daughter tells me you woke earlier today," he said, then in a curious bowing motion that involved his hand, the old man introduced himself. "My name is Jafir, and I am the Sheikh of the Ten Tribes of the Tarsis Desert."

Raistlin struggled to sit, and nodded his understanding, "My name is Raistlin Majere, a wizard of the Red Robes of the Towers of High Sorcery."

"You have interesting eyes, Sorcerer Majere," said Jafir, lifting a brow.

"A lesson from the Head of the Conclave," answered Raistlin, and he saw Jafir nodding. "You know of Par-Salian?"

"In passing," answered Jafir. "My brother's cousin."

Raistlin bemusedly wondered how a blood relation passed as only a 'passing acquaintance', but held his tongue, but Jafir, with a slight twinkle in his eye explained, "I never much liked my brother, the son of a daughter of a camel thief, and so I do not much know his cousin."

"Excuse me?" Raistlin practically choked.

"My younger brother was the son of my father's fourth wife. She was... as you Northerners would call it... 'a pain in the ass' to my mother, whose was my father's first wife," this was spoken with more than a little pride, even if Raistlin was having a difficult time picking through the interesting family line. "Oh, I see your confusion. Forgive me, unlike you Northerners, we of the desert take more than one wife... at a time... my father had eight wives."

"If I'm not too forward..."

"I have nine."

"Oh."

"The daughter you met, Fahira, is the daughter of my second wife. A lovely girl, is she not? She was quite taken by you, you know. Something about your future being the most painful," Jafir sighed. "Had we caught her gift, we would have sent her for training, however..."

He made a gesture that showed regret, "I love my son and my daughters, and my wives. If Fahira had shown her gift earlier on, we would have much liked for her to learn the Arts of Magic, but that was not to be."

"She would have had to go very far to the North... to Palanthas," explained Raistlin. "As that is where all girls are taught. Boys are taught in Solace."

"Then it is better she did not," said Jafir. "She would have never survived such cool, damp climes. Speaking of different climes, I lead us to the subject of you. What would lead an obvious Northerner into the desert?"

For a moment Raistlin paused, not exactly sure of what to say and what not to say. "A lost item."

"You come all this way for something lost?" Jafir leaned forward. "It must be valuable indeed."

"Extremely," agreed Raistlin.

* * *

The three companions skirted around the Thorbardin chain of mountains. Where the plains met savannah, then the savannah gave way to desert. At this point one of the horses died. Tanis stood facing the trackless desert to the South, and then the forbidding mountains to the North. Flint looked at Caramon who looked out forlornly to the South where there was no end to the desert sands as the hundred foot high dunes shifted as they watched. "I have heard tales of sandstorms that whip up with no warning and bury everything in sight," began Flint. "But I never believed that it would be possible, that there would be a nothingness like I see today. There is naught but death to the South, Caramon. When the sands end, the ice begins. There is only a slight, cold, savannah not unlike the one we rode through, only filled with scrub land if the maps are correct."

"He had to go this way," maintained Caramon as he closed his eyes and Tanis laid a hand on his shoulder. "I can still feel that he's alive... somewhere..."

"Somewhere..." Tanis breathed. "If he lives through the desert and gets to where he is going, he is stronger than we all gave him credit for."

"He'll live," said Caramon, turning back to face the South. "He has to."

* * *

Raistlin was well enough to stand up and walk around the tent although Jafir's first wife kept a very close eye on him. He was well aware that he was much smaller and lighter of build than any of Jafir's men, or even Jafir himself. Not to mention, besides the nasty sunburn, that he was also fairer than any of the men. Jafir's first wife, who was head woman of Jafir's harem, said to him from behind her veil, "You are more restless than his stallions. Is our hospitality not good enough for you, Pale Stranger?"

"Oh no, my lady," he said sincerely. "You all have been more than gracious to me, and for that I am very thankful, but my sojourn this way is far from over, and it is vital that I finish what I set out to do."

She inclined her head, "You need to rest more, and let your skin get used to the sun first, or another of the tribes will find you. And perhaps not be as _gracious_ as we are."

Raistlin sat down in one of the pillows in frustration and she, again, inclined her head, "But perhaps we can help speed you on your way when the time comes. But you must recover or the next time it will be much worse."

"I concede that point," he looked over to her and realized that she, unlike the other wives, had actually spoken to him. "Is there a reason why the others don't speak to me?"

"It is forbidden for them to," she answered. "In fact, I am almost overstepping my own boundaries by even speaking to you unless spoken to. But that is my privilege as the head wife."

"Where I come from, the woman are generally treated as equals to the men," he said. "I'm not used to this at all."

"Here, if we wish that privilege, we must prove ourselves."

"Harsh."

"So the desert is," she pointed out. "I find you strange, and I get the feeling that even among your own brethren that you are not exactly the norm, am I correct?"

Raistlin was a bit startled by the sudden change in subject, "Yes. Wizards are not exactly treated well outside of the Towers."

"I get the feeling there is more to it than that," she sighed a bit. "You are not being honest with us, and I feel it my duty to find out if you are a threat like the other elders feel you are."

He turned to face her, with a gaze so that she could see his eyes, "I thought as much," she moved her veil aside only enough for him to see her eyes. "I am curious, why would the Conclave feel that is necessary for you?"

Raistlin was still in shock to see another set of hourglass eyes outside of his own, "Reylanna... you're Reylanna?"

"The same," she conceded, then he noted the black trim to everything she wore. "I saw in your pack that you wear the Red Robes, though the hem is Black. You and I share this curse, Brethren."

"So it would seem," he mused. "Par-Salian 'bestowed' them upon me to teach me humility and compassion. Now I see death in everything."

"Ah, I would not be so quick to dismiss their power..." she waved a finger. "Like all magical items, all magical blessings and curses, it is a double-edged sword. Yes, it can be used as a curse, and is often referred to as such, but is as much blessing as curse in my long experience. And, Red Robe, I have been around a very long time. You may not be able to see them, but I also happen to be half-elven."

"Dark Elf," he said matter of factly, not with any inflection, as if he was pointing out a herb used in spell casting.

She nodded her head, "Now, I ask again, what made you so different?"

Raistlin took a breath, knowing now that he dare not tell Jafir, or anyone else in the camp, that he sought the Blue Star. He owed them a debt, yes, but if he even let on that he was after one of the most powerful artifacts known to Krynn and beyond, he may as well hand over the Blue Star to the Dark Queen herself and be done with it. "I... ah... made a decision I really should not have," he said finally, measuring his words as he did so, and the answer was honest enough. "But the Conclave made both my brother and I swear never to tell anyone what had transpired during my Test."

"They gave you the eyes after your _Test_?" her surprise was evident. "Wait, I know you now, you came with a big burly man... Your name was Rays, Rast..."

"Raistlin," he corrected gently. "Raistlin Majere."

"Ah yes, they also gave you this," she turned, stood up, walked a short distance and then brought him out his staff and presented it to him. "The eyes, the Red Robes, and the Staff of the Magius. Par-Salian has some rather high hopes for you, Red Robe."

"So I've been told..."

* * *

Hours later when the sun had truly fallen and the chill in the air was quite pronounced, Jafir came back to the tent. Raistlin sat by the fire that was within the tent, futilely trying to keep warm. "You Northerners are a confusing puzzle to me," said Jafir. "First you are too hot and collapse in the desert, now you are too cold."

"Typically, I'm always too cold," answered Raistlin. "I must admit being too warm to be an interesting occasion."

Jafir nodded in interest before sitting on the opposite side from Raistlin. "I also find it very interesting that you are so far from home, as it were. What are you running from, or seeking?"

Raistlin measured what to tell Jafir, and suspected that it would likely have to measure up to what Reylanna would say. "I am searching for something that was stolen from me and my colleagues," he finally answered, before shrugging. "And while I would like to recover as soon as possible and be after it, I understand I owe you my life. Undoubtably, if you had not found me out there, I would be dead right now."

For a moment Jafir's eyes thinned, then he cheered and said, "I must admit, it is nice to have a wizard owing me something."

_And what of your lovely wife?_ wondered Raistlin. Did Jafir honestly know what Reylanna was capable of? There was no way to tell. Perhaps it was common practice for women to have 'otherworldly' arts, be seers, but not considered truly wizards. For a moment they sat there, getting the other's measure. Finally Jafir clapped and women came in with trays laden with food and sat them before them. Jafir motioned to the youngest of the girls, which could not have been more than fifteen, and said, "You are right, though, you do owe me your life. You see my youngest daughter?"

Raistlin looked over, wishing for the millionth time that he didn't see the young girl withering in front of him. He cast his eyes downward before looking back at Jafir. "Yes."

"Now, if I wanted to, I could order you to marry the girl, and, I think you would because you would owe me," Jafir smiled. "Then, of all ironies, you and I would be tied by marriage as my daughter would be your first wife."

"Only wife."

Jafir blinked.

"Remember, where I come from, a man is only allowed one wife, unless he somehow gets a divorce, or the first one dies," explained Raistlin. "We are only allowed one wife at one time. And trust me, given how independent and warrior-like our women can be, that's all you would want."

_Heaven have mercy on the man who married not only Kitiara, but another just like her_, mused Raistlin. _Or worse yet, like in this culture, five of them_... Jafir nodded, "So then I would have you, now wouldn't I?"

Raistlin shrugged, "If she felt like keeping ties with you, yes. If not, it wouldn't make any difference to me."

Again the silence fell, as the two used the metaphor of the women as a method to tell each other just where they stood. They both knew that neither actually spoke of women, of marriage, nor of family ties. It was another method to have a power struggle with two intelligent men who could see what the other actually meant. Jafir's eyes thinned again, while Raistlin regarded him cooly, giving nothing away. Finally Jafir laughed and said, "You are a very deep man, Raistlin Majere."

"So, your wife did speak to you," mused Raistlin. "This was a test to see if I was telling you the truth."

"And you passed," said Jafir. "I have the feeling there is more to you, but as you have dealt honestly, I shall deal honestly with you. My name is Jafir ibn Qual-hasir. My wive's names are Reylanna, the first, Jazeera is my second, Mati the third, Rishi is my fourth wife, Cavalaya is my fifth wife, Zora my sixth wife, Berul is my seventh wife, Vania my eighth wife and my ninth wife is Tal-hira. They run my harem."

Raistlin, while he had been skeptical at first, was impressed with how well Jafir kept track of all nine wives. During the evening, Jafir talked a bit with his wives, and not only could keep them all straight and not confuse which wife was which, but also her likes and dislikes. Raistlin also saw, unlike a few of the other men in the tribe, he also accorded his wives with quite a bit of respect. Finally, after learning a bit of their culture so that he wouldn't make a cultural faux pas, Jafir noticed that Raistlin was beginning to nod off in the pillows. Jafir motioned to Berul, "Berul, Raistlin looks like he is about to fall asleep on us... perhaps too much wine...?"

Raistlin could barely keep track of that, but he heard clearly, "Take him to Wellint's tent, and tell him that my debt to him is cleared with this young man."

Jafir looked down to Raistlin, "Forgive me, but I feel the ancestors sent you to free my tribes from the thrall of Wellint. Consider your debt clear... and may the Gods go with you."

With that Raistlin passed out.

* * *

He awoke again to another tent, this one still of the desert people, but he knew that Jafir's people had moved on. He leaned on his elbows and looked up at the man that sat in a wooden chair. The man looked over and said, "Ah, you're awake. Good. Jafir told me that you are named Raistlin Majere. My name is Wellint Rortin."

"That's not a desert name."

"No, it is not," Wellint stood and walked over, although Raistlin noticed that the walk was strange, as if the legs were not quite aligned right.

When Wellint came closer he saw it was because Wellint's legs were insectoid and there were four of those said legs. He fought against the rising bile, "What are you?"

Wellint's hands, if they could be called that, came out of his sleeves and seized Raistlin by the throat. "I am what you call a 'quasit', a demon of the Nine Hells."

"The Nine Hells don't exist..."

The grip tightened and Wellint giggled, "Not on Krynn they don't. But on other worlds they do. And that is where I would like to return. And you, my new friend, are going to help me..."

Raistlin decided he did not like the sound of that...

* * *


	9. Chapter Seven

**A/N**: I have a feeling I left you all with a really nasty cliffhanger, lol? I promise I won't ever do it again...

* * *

Chapter Seven

* * *

Raistlin fought against the rising bile but managed to ask in between clenched teeth, "I have never heard of a place called Faerun... perhaps its to the East?"

"Nice try, wizardling, but I can sense your power from here. The potential is... tasty..." for a moment Wellint opened a mouth that stretched to an impossible width and housed a near innumerable amount of teeth.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

Wellint glared at him, then tossed him aside. Raistlin rolled into the wall with a soft muffled grunt, before he gingerly sat up with his back leaning against the wall. Wellint shuffled into the next room and the door clanged shut and darkness deeper than anything he had ever experienced fell. Thinning his eyes, and a little more than irate, Raistlin began to chant with his hand arranged just as if he was holding his absent staff. When he finished chanting the staff solidified in his hands.

With a small humorless smile on his lips he then whispered, "Shirak."

With that the Staff lit up the room brightly and he climbed to his feet, using the Staff of the Magius as support. Leaning on it a bit as now his hip protested against the abuse and now the need to stand, he surveyed his surroundings. What he had taken for a lab was no more than a dark, dank, and dirty dungeon cell.

If anyone had been able to see his face, he was sure they would have seen an expression that meant, 'I'm so _not_ impressed.' He walked to the door and tried the lock, and his lips compressed into a thin line. Finally he leaned on the staff in thought and took stock of the situation. He still did not have his magic due to an anti-magic shell cast on his cell, but his staff was in his hands... unfortunately he had lost his sword, although he had planned to give it Caramon in the end.

He patted his belt, noticing that it was a simple belt without the clasps and loops to tie spell component pouches on. _Damn_, he thought. _Now, how in the Abyss am I supposed to get out of here?_

He sighed and walked back to the pallet and sat down, staring at the door by the light of his staff.

* * *

Caramon, Tanis and Flint had made it back to the town North of Thorbardin. With a sigh, Caramon said, "I suppose our paths will again split?"

Tanis nodded, "I still have to head to Qualinesti, but you are welcome to accompany as far as the road headed that way. New Port is not far, our path will split there. Flint, where are you headed?"

The dwarf shrugged, "I may not be leaving. My family is from here. That young dwarf who keeps the bar is my nephew."

The two humans looked surprised, Caramon least of all, "Ah, Flint, he's directly connected to this entire thing..."

"Hardly surprising, considering my family has the most direct tales of the Blue Star," responded Flint. "I walked beside one of them before. A brooding bunch..." he shook his head in sorrow. "Your brother now has a serious responsibility."

Caramon's face fell as the weight of that statement filtered in, "I never should have left him alone..."

"Wouldn't have mattered anyway," mused Tanis. "It sounds like one way or the other he would have left."

* * *

Jafir paced in his tent, looking at the stranger's sword that lay on the pillows. It had been two days since he had sold out the Northerner and he already felt sick from the guilt of doing it. But if he hadn't, his first daughter would have had to be given to the monster. At least now the dreaded lotteries that demanded the women of all the Tribes as tribute would be over.

Prince Hassan came in and looked at the sword, "The craftsmanship is very fine."

"It is, I cannot feel that no one less than prince would carry it," said Jafir darkly.

"You still feel guilt over handing over the Northern Outsider?"

Jafir sighed and waved it off as un-consequential. Settling into the pillows and taking a deep breath of the smoke he then said, "I found him in the desert, his life was owed me. You were right after all. It was written..."

Hassan looked out over the desert, "Yes, and now that we are free of Wellint's dark influence we can also be free of the necessity to fear him?"

Jafir looked up at Hassan curiously.

* * *

Wellint shuffled back and looked into the dungeon cell. His eyes widened when he realized that the little prize that had fallen into his web was gone and not even his darkvision in the pitch black cell could find him. He slammed the door open and rushed in.

Too late he saw the motion behind him and turned towards it, pike held up in defense.

The room lit in sudden brilliance and Wellint covered his eyes in pain from light that lit the room as bright as the sun on the desert. "Put it out!" he ordered, slashing blindly around the cell.

"What in the Abyss _are_ you?!" Raistlin asked in horror.

It might have been an elf at one point, but it was not anymore. Like a centaur, the top half of the man was elven, thought not of any elf he had ever heard or read about, but the lower half was of a huge black spider. "I am both the shame and the pride of my Goddess!" shouted Wellint. "One you will aid me in rejoining!"

"Sure, whatever," smirked Raistlin, now recognizing that the light was what caused the pain. "Not in my lifetime, demon."

"I will hunt you down and kill you! I swear by Lolth!" shouted the man-spider.

"You will have to find me first..." said Raistlin as he touched a rune that glowed brightly on the Staff now that the anti-magic shell on the cell that prevented all but the spell of light from working was gone.

With that, he was gone.

Wellint, eyes still burning but able to see from the sudden absence of the burning light, thrashed and screamed in rage. The drider forced himself to calm, then swore, "If it takes me four of my own lifetimes, mage, I will hunt you down and kill you for this!"

* * *

Raistlin came out of the teleportation, while still in the desert, just outside the citadel on the wind-swept mountain range. He breathed a sigh of relief. At precisely that point another of the demons, only slightly smaller rushed at him. This one was smaller, and held no signs of sentience. Not only that... it appeared to be human... even of the desert tribes.

Raistlin barely dodged the blow as the female version nearly took off his head by the sudden sweeping motion of the halberd. "How many are there?" he asked in surprise.

A tingling sensation swept him and as he cast one of his lesser spells that did not require any spell components to work, he noticed that his hands were again of the gold tinge. _Interesting... it shows itself as armor by itself when I'm in mortal danger._.. but he pushed back his observation as the need to survive this battle pushed itself to the forefront of his mind.

He used his Staff to block the downward sweep, then rolled out of the way as another one joined its sister by shooting crossbow bolts at him. He had to block another blow and saw that he had left himself open for the other to shoot him.

At that precise moment when he was sure that the only time he would again see his twin, the impossible happened. Arrows took her in the soft underbelly and she screamed and fell. Raistlin twitched the muscle in his left arm that allowed his dagger to drop into his hand. With a sudden upward slashing motion, he sliced the belly of the one he was fighting open. She retreated and Raistlin turned to regard his sudden savior.

Jafir and a group of his men finished off the other one, and with a curt motion of his hand, two of the men went to hunt the other while Jafir helped Raistlin to his feet. Raistlin shook him off once he was standing. "I am deeply sorry, Raistlin," Jafir bowed slightly. "But for years we have been forced to sacrifice our daughters to Wellint in a bi-annual lottery. This year it was the daughter I showed you before..."

"So you sacrificed me instead?" stated Raistlin coldly.

"I knew that a full-fledged wizard would be too much for Wellint to resist. And I was right," Jafir looked up at Raistlin then gasped as he fully registered the gold tone of a Miiro and fell to his knees. "My lord Miiro! Forgive me I did not know!"

_What is with everyone and the Miiro?_ wondered Raistlin. "Get up. Wellint is still in there, but I can tell you that his weak spot is daylight. It is likely the same with the spawn."

"Daylight? Truly?" asked Jafir in awe. "We only knew that he came to us at night, attacked only in the night... we figured it was because the darkness hid him..."

"Then wait until day and as you attack, open every window and door in the place and see how easily you take the citadel," Raistlin turned to walk away, but Jafir grabbed his arm. "What is it now?"

"I owe you an apology, and you will still die out there, Guardian or no," said Jafir. "Join us in the morning and then we will outfit you for the journey. Reylanna will scry the place to which you are going. We have heard tales of it, but no one who has journeyed there, save for your kin, has ever returned."

Raistlin gave it half a thought, and knowing that there would be no way for him to finish his quest, or even get back out of the desert as he had no real idea of where he was. "Very well."

* * *

For once since the trip in the desert went drastically wrong, Raistlin could sleep. And sleep he did. In the morning before they set out, he studied and recovered his spells, taking notes on what he had learned so far. He finally understood Marion's need to keep a journal as he found more and more as he developed his attunement to the Blue Star that more required research. "Will I ever find the end of my journey?" he mused.

He snapped to full awareness when Jafir stood and motioned that it was time to move in on Wellint...

... Hours later they found themselves in the deepest part of the citadel. Here, even though every window had been opened and the doors left open or ripped off hinges entirely, the light only filtered in and still cast dark shadows in the corners.

Raistlin pushed open the door and the five men had to cover their noses from the rank smell within. Skittering sounds could be heard within and then giant spiders spilled out. Raistlin managed to wipe out the first wave with a flaming hands spell. The second wave, only getting the tail end of it was still living, but on fire, giant spiders. Jafir and his men fought against them, but two more fell from the poisonous bites of the spiders.

Taking stock of the situation, Raistlin realized that there was only three left, including him. Jafir was about to walk into the room, but Raistlin held up his hand, suggesting caution. "Wait," whispered Raistlin, then he cleared his voice and shouted. "Wellint! Come out. We have killed all of your guards."

"Ah, the wizardling returns," came the sibilant voice of Wellint from within the room. "But if you wish to kill me, you must come in here."

Raistlin cast dancing lights and then ducked into the room as arrows flew through the doorway, killing the other man with Jafir. In the time that it took Wellint to reload, Jafir was already in the room and circling with his sword.

There was a certain amount of familiarity with this arrangement, one warrior and one wizard, that Raistlin suddenly felt very confident with his abilities. "Shirak."

The staff lit the room brightly again, and blinded Wellint. Jafir leapt forward and speared the beast through the elven chest, then fell back, sword left where it was. Raistlin let the brilliance die a little bit so that he could see. Wellint was definitely dying. "You never answered my question," said Raistlin. "What are you?"

"I... am... what is called a drider," answered Wellint. "I am what happens when a drow fails his goddess. He becomes her glory... and her shame."

"Drow?" Jafir and Raistlin looked at each other as if to ask, _What in the Abyss is a Drow?_

"He claims to not be from this world," said Raistlin in explanation as Wellint finally died, filing the information away for future reference. "But, I suppose we will never know, now will we?"

* * *

It was a day's ride back to Jafir's camp, especially since there was only two men to lead back enough horses for the fifteen that had ridden out. When they reached the camp, many of the other men that had not been picked to go out were shocked when only Jafir and Raistlin returned. In way of explanation, Jafir said, "They fell fighting the spawn of Wellint... and Wellint himself. But Wellint is no more! We are free of the Lottery!"

Jafir led the way into his tents where Reylanna waited. Already, the subdued mourning process for those lost in battle had begun. Reylanna helped Jafir out of his dust covered clothes, then aided the harem as they stripped Raistlin's off again. Once they were bathed and clothed in clean robes, Jafir invited Raistlin to sit across from him. Raistlin accepted, but said, "There is no more strange creatures, or even humans or others, that you have a life debt to repay?"

"Only one," said Jafir. "You. You came into this camp owing me, Raistlin Majere. Now you leave it with my gratitude and my thanks for your help in freeing us to once again wander from oasis to oasis."

Raistlin breathed a sigh of relief, but Jafir was not done. "Now, I said that Reylanna would scry for you. Reylanna, come here and bring your bowl with you."

She came, her surprise at being summoned evident, "It has been many years since you last asked me to perform my Art within view of others."

"We owe him," said Jafir. "Now, what is it you seek, my friend?"

Raistlin murmured, "I seek the Blue Star."

Reylanna blinked, "Are you mad?"

Jafir cut her off with a motion of his hand, "He is not mad at all, my dear. Now, do as we ask."

She appeared a bit miffed, but calmed herself as she settled in front of the low rimmed bowl filled with water. Raistlin watched in rapt fascination as she cast her spell and looked into the bowl. Her eyes were focused elsewhere, but soon she spoke. "I see ice, so much ice.... a mountain chain of ice... high on this mountain there is a castle made of ice and stone... what you seek is there... wait... there is more..."

The two men looked at each other and Jafir asked gently, "What is it you see, my dear?"

She looked deeper, "Something moves within... wait... I can see it..."

With that she fell back on her heels, her face pale. "Winged death. I see only death."

She covered her face, and knocked the bowl askew. "Ask no more of me..." she then retreated to where the women stayed in the inner part of the tent.

The second wife walked in and laid some of the loose fitting robes in the same color of the sand and of the style of the desert people at Raistlin's feet. He looked at it for a moment until Jafir's voice brought him out of his thoughts, "That is for you. As well as a fast horse and supplies to aid you to the end of the desert and to the glacier. Ice and death... there unfortunately I cannot aid you. All I ask of you is to spend one more night with us and a day, for then we shall reach the next oasis. There, you can head South and our paths will separate. May the spirits of our ancestors and of the Prophet guide you to your destination, Lord Miiro."

Raistlin was surprised, but more than a bit relieved. Horses he could deal with... so long as he would not have to ride any more camels.

Again, he was treated as a guest in Jafir's tents. This time he wasn't drugged and so was able to almost relax. He supposed that if he did not have the curse of the hourglass eyes that he may have enjoyed the dance that Jafir's eldest daughter performed, although he appreciated her gracefulness and the subtlety of the story woven into the dance. He felt like he was being watched and turned to regard Reylanna. _Blessing and curse?_ his gaze challenged.

Her response, which was a shrugged shoulder, said clearly, _Give it time and you will understand_.

Raistlin turned back to the dance, almost shaking his head in confusion but knew that it would be taken as an insult. He leaned onto his elbow that was cushioned by the pillows and settled himself for the long night ahead. If anything, he had to appreciate the desert tribes. While most called them barbarians, they were as refined as most elves, if Tanis was anything to judge, as well as all the human nobles he had met. If the fabrics said anything, Jafir was also a very rich man. Most 'barbarian' nomadic tribes, from his education, held little regard for wealth considering nature's wealth the most vital. So far he had seen gold rings, coins, and enough jewelry to pay for the entirety of Wayreth, not to mention the satiny fabric he lay on.

As much as he didn't like thinking of her, his short-lived interest in Miranda had taught him something of fabrics. He knew that Miranda's father would have traded his entire stock for a bolt of the cloth that Jafir dressed his wives and daughters in. Undoubtably, if Jafir traded with Northern and (come to think of it, the desert did border Silvanesti...) other, more 'civilized' nations, the fact that Jafir had a caravan probably did make him a very wealthy man.

Finally, Jafir's guests left after a too complicated, at least for a tired Raistlin to follow, set of gestures and salutations. Jafir turned to Raistlin and said to Reylanna, "Our guest in our tent looks wearied. Forgive me, I have kept you up. Please, recline there at the warmth of the brazier and my daughter shall bring you everything you need to be comfortable. Do you accept my gift?"

Raistlin inclined his head in thanks having learned that there was no refusal since it would be taken as an insult. Raistlin was even more surprised when the eldest daughter was brought out with her eunuch as a chaperone. The eldest was a privilege that only revered guests ever got. Lesser guests only got the younger wives or daughters, or, if it was an especially full tent, a mere concubine or slave girl.

With a nod from the girl, the eunuch smiled and left the partition of the tent, letting the final panel of fabric fall to seal them off from the rest of the tent for Raistlin's privacy.

The girl brought out a basin of water for Raistlin to bathe himself as well as a perfumed cone. While Raistlin did bathe himself, he drew the line on the musky cologne. "Please, sir, it is a gift from my father. He trades it to the Silvanesti from the Que-Kiri. Besides our horses and our horse stock, this is our livelihood..."

...Which meant if he turned it down grave insult would be taken. "For your father then, maiden," said Raistlin, hiding the resignation in his voice.

With that she helped him into the fine rich burgundy colored robes that were reserved for in camp and tent use, showing him how to properly wear them so that he could dress himself in the sand colored ones tomorrow. He had to admit they were much cooler then what he had been wearing. She tied the braided belt around his waist and then made his bed among the pillows. Then she looked like she was waiting for something. His mind, which although never clueless normally, drew a bit of a blank as he never quite did understand women... oh... "Isn't it forbidden for you to lay with a man until you are married?" he asked surprised.

She nodded, then said, "My father has given me to you, and you have accepted this tonight when my parents retired for the night... oh dear... you did not realize it, did you?"

"As simple as that?" he asked, surprised.

"What do you expect? Is there more to it than that, my husband?" she asked, puzzled.

"Typically, at least where I come from, there is," answered Raistlin. "Women are not simply 'given' away, at least without any sort of consent."

"Forgive us the misunderstanding..."

Raistlin sighed, "If I refuse, would I insult your father?"

He already knew the answer, and was not in the least surprise when she nodded her head, still looking at the ground. "Look at me," he said, bringing her eyes to meet his. "You see my eyes? I rather thought so, and from the look in yours you understand what they mean. Yes, like your mother, I see everything as it ages, withers, and dies away. I wish I could see your beauty, and I wish I could appreciate it. But I cannot even see it. Add to it than within a few days I ride South never to return. You will never see me again and will be left a young widow. Is that what you truly want?"

She looked down, shaking her head, "I want a husband, but I will not have one for long. At least, after you are gone, I will have the right as widow to choose my own future, but I will never forget the one who brought it to me."

"Very well," said Raistlin, thinking, These people have a sense of 'honor' like Sturm does... "Do we have to consummate this marriage, or can your next husband, assuming you want one, do that instead?"

She blinked, "Look at the color of the fabric."

He did, "White?"

"If you leave this tent tomorrow and there is no stain of blood on the bedding, you will have shamed me as it will appear that I shamed myself with another man before I wed," she said.

Raistlin found this entirely too ironic. "Why me?" he shook his head, and lowered it to the pillows. "I... have never been with a woman myself, my dear. My experience with your half of our species has been less than great."

"You are not _that_ way?" she said, a bit of horror creeping into her voice as she moved away a bit.

"What? Oh _no!_" Raistlin shook his hands. "No, I'm not _that_ way at all. It's just that I have no experience with women. I spent all my time in a library or a classroom learning of my magic, then I spent all my time traveling to find more magic. Then I was cursed with the eyes and found that I didn't like looking as much as used to."

At least, in retrospect, he didn't think he was _that_ way. And so what if he was? Why was he justifying himself to her? He sighed as her hand strayed to his face to close his eyelids, "There's no getting out of this, is there?"

"No, there is not," she breathed. "It is only your eyes, no? Then feel, don't look."

He allowed himself to be pulled down into the soft, silky, fabrics of the bed and her clothes.

* * *

_**Next chapter**_: Raistlin leaves the desert behind from one extreme to the other; now he has to deal with a glacier! 


	10. Chapter Eight

* * *

Chapter Eight

* * *

The desert was still infernally hot, but now at least that heat was bearable, and the ride swifter and a bit more comfortable on the back of an animal he was familiar with. The tall, fast, black stallion was faster that any other horse that Raistlin had ever ridden in his life and the ride by far the smoothest. During the ride on this last day as he could see the shimmer of the sea. The heat not being quite as bad might also have had something to do with that.

He also remembered the incredible good bye from the desert nomads and from Jafir.

* * *

"I feel I should still thank you for your hospitality," began Raistlin, dressed in the sand colored robes that he would wear probably until the Icewall Glacier was found.

Jafir shrugged it off, "You ended a curse that had plagued us for nearly ten of the longest years we have ever experienced, one that nearly bankrupted me and also likely ended the freedom of the Ten Tribes. We are even, and I hope even perhaps friends."

In a rare show of amicably, mostly because these people had treated him well and also treated him as an equal that would not break if coddled. Raistlin had felt, for the first time in his life, that he could breathe and, except for Jafir's daughter that had been given him as wife, even had a measure of privacy and solitude. Xahira, as Raistlin had learned was her name, would live as a widow and a free woman in her tribe after he left.

But now Jafir was showing him to the tents of the horsemen. Finally, Jafir called to the most incredible horse that Raistlin had ever laid eyes on, not to mention the biggest, and the horse cantered over. He wasn't an expert with horses, but he could easily see from the grace and unforced pick up that the proud horse had spirit and probably no shortage of speed. "My wife and I have discussed it, and feel that Darkmist is most suited to your needs. He is the fastest of our stud horses and I look forward to seeing him perform under you," Jafir said then. "Would you do us the honor of riding him in your quest?"

Raistlin whistled in appreciation, noticing Jafir's smile broaden. "It would be my honor, Jafir. He's a beautiful horse, truly splendid," breathed Raistlin as the horse nosed Jafir's hand.

Jafir gave Darkmist a gentle nudge and Raistlin held out a hand, palm and fingers stretched flat, so that the horse would get acquainted with him. After a snuffling sound, Darkmist nudged Raistlin in the shoulder and Jafir said, "He likes you. I picked well. Darkmist is yours, my friend."

Finally, after the day had waned, Raistlin had returned to the tent that he shared with Xahira. "My father gave you out of the best of our herd."

"I can see that, even with my untrained eyes," he answered. "I still can't get over all of this. I did not do much. All I did was escape Wellint..."

"Then led my father and his men into the lair of the beast, armed with the knowledge of its weak spot. You could have walked away, and no one would have blamed you," she said. "You could have walked away after telling my father of the weak spot, and we would have thanked you for the information and the generosity in giving it freely. But you stayed and fought at our side for a cause that was not even yours, even after an apparent betrayal. For that we owe you. These gifts are our way of doing so."

"You didn't have to give all of this and put yourselves short on my account..."

She shrugged it off, "One horse, even the finest, a mere daughter, some robes and some supplies is not 'putting ourselves short', as you put it. Darkmist has been our stud for many years and he has sired all the best of our herd. His son is as fine as he is, so we have not lost a stud stallion that could not be replaced. You are leaving me behind, from what you say, so soon I shall be a widow for none have returned from where you are going, and travel robes and supplies are easily replaced. Do not worry yourself about it, husband. We shall do fine after you leave, and do better than what we were before. Stay one more night and perhaps... perhaps I shall have a son whom I will call by your name."

For a moment Raistlin smiled slightly at the thought, but said, "Even if we were to lay together all night, there is no guarantee that I would give you a son."

"My mother thinks otherwise, and a woman knows these things," she said, a faint 'tsk-tsk' in her voice, and Raistlin smiled slightly again, looking down and shaking his head in disbelief. She smiled back, touching his chin as she did so, "You know you never had a chance between my mother and I. Had she not been married to my father, she would have taken you herself. Magic is a valued commodity among my people, and those who wield it are accorded a great amount of respect."

With a sigh, Raistlin said, "If I didn't think my brother would track me down, and if I did not have to leave to fulfill my duties, I would be tempted to stay here. Magic, where I come from, is more feared than respected. I have had to run before to avoid being burned at the stake, or worse."

"Here, such a thing would be sacrilegious," she said with a slight shudder. "For the Gods and the Ancestors show themselves in the magic and lend it power. The Prophet often grants powerful spells to those worthy, and those with skill."

"A place that reveres and respects magic, a place where my cough hasn't bothered me for month and for once I'm not freezing to death from the damp and cold..." he murmured, suddenly wishing he did not have to leave. "And a woman that puts things in perspective and also has an understanding of magic... oh Gods... what a carrot you have dangled before me..."

She crinkled her brows, "Carrot? What is 'carrot'?"

At this, Raistlin did laugh. Not his usual mocking and sharp laughter, but a true laugh as he laid a hand on her shoulder, "Xahira... oh, never mind. It is a vegetable from where I am from. To get donkeys to do something, one would often tie a carrot to the end of a long branch and dangle it in front of their noses."

Her eyes lit up, showing how much of a horseman's daughter she was, in sudden understanding. "And the donkey would endeavor to always grasp for what is out of reach and start walking in the direction of the carrot. You feel that our camp is this 'carrot'?"

"I feel that the entire place is the carrot, Xahira," answered Raistlin, sitting in front of the tent just on the tent cloth with his knees drawn up to almost his chin and his long arms wrapped around them. "For the first time in my life I have found a place where, physically, I don't have to worry about illness too much because I am never damp and cold. Oh, it gets cold all right, but it's a dry place so it's not so bad. The dryness also keeps my lungs clear. So I am not as sick as I usually am. Then, everyone truly respects me for who I am and for what I have done, not for my twin brother. There are no side glances of suspicion that are afraid that because I am wizard that I am going to go on a sudden killing spree with my magic or summon a demon. Then, there is you. You simply accepted me, forced marriage or not. Women... don't do that where I come from."

She sat beside him and put an arm around his shoulders, "Then stay. Come back after you complete your mission. The others do not believe that you will and so plan for your eventual funeral after three months of you leaving us. However, with what I have seen and heard, I believe in you. If you wish it, you will come back to me, and to us. My father would welcome you into our Tribe and you would be a Prince among us. Come back to those who love you for you... not because of someone else."

"You have no idea how sorely tempted I am to do just that..." he murmured as they watched the sun set.

* * *

And so he rode out the next day, knowing as well as she did that the good bye said was likely to be the last that they ever would see of each other. It was for the best... but even still... there was something that would have wished he could have stayed, or in the least, after this was all finished one way or the other, to return.

But he knew that his brother would eventually track him down, and the bumbling idiot would not leave without him. Caramon would never be happy there and would yearn to return North to Solace where the culture was not so strange and exotic.

Not to mention that the women would not be so shamed if he took their 'innocence' before they were married.

Darkmist and Raistlin reached the sea and the glacier after four days of riding through the desert.

* * *

The two companions, Tanis and Caramon, arrived in Solace as the snows had begun yet again. Caramon, thin lipped, turned to Tanis and said, "He's been gone for a year and a half."

Tanis looked down at the ground, then reached over and gave Caramon's shoulder a shake, "Even if you don't see him soon, remember that if he is able, he will hold to the promise to meet us again in... three and a half years."

Caramon remembered the promise that the companions had made to meet again after splitting to meet again in five years in the Inn of the Last Home and smiled wanly, "If he is able..."

"And he should be able. Imagine what he will have to tell us, what he will have learned," said Tanis. "Come on, Caramon, how old are you two? He was twenty one when he took the Test, so, that would make you what, twenty two... right?"

Caramon nodded in affirmation. "Twenty-two... soon to be twenty three."

"Most human men are married and with children by now," said Tanis. "You may be twins, but still merely brothers. You both have separate paths to walk, separate lives to live. You're not boys anymore, you're _men_. Abyss, Caramon, you say he took the Test and passed, he's a full fledged wizard now, acknowledged by his peers as such. What does magic have to do with swords, or even whatever else you can do on your own? Let _him_ come to _you_ for once in your lives!"

Tanis watched as the familiar stubborn edge to Caramon's jaw set the minute anyone treaded into that territory, and again he shook Caramon as if to shake the sense of what he was saying into the human man, "Caramon Majere, you cannot live his life for him, and he cannot live your life for you. What worked when you were boys will no longer work now that you are men. Raistlin can take care of himself now, you have seen him do so. Hell, it's time he found a woman to do it for him. He's at that age too now, like you. It's time to cut the umbilical cord, Caramon."

For a moment, Tanis was afraid he had gone to far, then Caramon broke into a wide grin, "I may not agree with it right now, but I could come to... even to see Raistlin married or something. Abyss, I have to agree with you on that count. He needs to get laid more often."

"Has he ever?" asked Tanis, mentally slapping himself for even asking. Raistlin Majere's love life, or lack thereof, definitely was _not_ his business.

Caramon shrugged, "I honestly don't know. He might have, but he's so intensely private that even if he did he's not the type to 'kiss and tell'."

"That's one thing in his favor," said Tanis. "Women like men who know when to keep their silence."

"... Not to mention that I think Raistlin is a bit more 'traditional' than anyone else in my family," said Caramon. "I think he may, and I stress may only because he's chided me for it before, be the type to believe that, um, certain activities only belong in wedlock."

Tanis had to blink at that thought, then laugh shakily, "Oh, _that's_ ironic."

An awkward silence ensued until broken by Caramon's quiet, "Can we change the subject?"

"Oh yes please, let's," agreed Tanis wholeheartedly. "We're starting to sound like a couple of old gossips."

"Speaking of which, have you heard that Otik had some problems over the Spring...?"

* * *

Raistlin huddled into his robes, which he had to change to after the desert sands had started to become increasingly colder. He also noticed that the sand beneath Darkmist's hooves was also beginning to give way more and more to rock and scrub land. Finally, he even had to add to his layers the desert wear and his heavy cloak.

He followed the coast line around, sensing that he was getting close as more and more he could even see the brilliant and shining blue that he sought. He was amazed at Darkmist's ability to keep up with his fervor.

Finally the sands ended.

And then the ice and snow began.

He stopped to look in wonder at the glass like ice as it shone in the sun. He wrapped the head gear around his face to keep the air from freezing out his lungs. Even in the coldest Solace winters could not compare to the biting frost that threatened to suck out the life in his lungs. What still surprised him was the dryness that pervaded everything. He sighed as he set up his camp.

Knowing that the wind would kill, he built up the ice into a wall and sealed it with snow. A small memory of building snow forts with his brother, or at least, telling Caramon how to do it while the larger and healthier twin did all the labor, forced itself upon him. With almost a smile on his lips but unseen by all the fabric wrapped around his head, he built his outer wall, then he used a cantrip to seal the final part by building a roof over his and Darkmist head. Crawling outside he continued to build the vaguely egg shaped dome until it would not collapse by soundness of structure versus having to use magic to keep it up. He crawled back in and then, using the lichen he had found, magically lit the fire while building up a small wall of snow to 'close the door' of his snow tent without locking away precious air and suffocating them.

In a few minutes, the fire warmed the space sufficiently for Raistlin to strip off the extra layers and make them into a passable bed. He dressed down Darkmist, brushing the sweat from the horse, then used a blanket draped it over the tall horse's back. Darkmist snuffled in appreciation and nuzzled Raistlin's hand as he fed the horse what little he could find. "I would turn you loose, but the cold would kill you, even if you found food. One can only hope that there is a so-called barbarian tribe with some knowledge of horses other than for food," he said to the horse. "You're nothing like Avanti, but I can tell like him, you are no ordinary horse. In fact, if I didn't know better, I would say that you were sired by him."

Darkmist snorted at this. "My thoughts exactly," answered Raistlin with a small laugh.

* * *

The next morning, Raistlin wrapped himself in the layers again, and took the blanket off of Darkmist and put the saddle and bridle back on him. He sighed, "Maybe today, we find someplace for you to board until I come back for you."

He mounted the horse and continued on. After awhile of looking for the lichens and other things to use as firewood, he eventually dismounted and led Darkmist, using him to carry the extra supplies, using the blanket to keep everything from digging into his hide. He was amazed at how well the desert horse held up in the extreme cold. This only reinforced his belief that perhaps Darkmist's bloodline was not totally mortal.

Finally they came to an encampment that was made of similar ice buildings and low to the ground wooden structures well sealed against the killing winds. As he drew closer, he saw that the people came out to greet him. As he got closer it was less a greeting party than a wary but nonaggressive war party. Hands still on Darkmist's tethers, Raistlin held up his hands in a non threatening gesture, "I mean no harm!"

"That remains to be seen, Wanderer," said the lead ice barbarian. :Who are you and where are you going?"

"My name is Raistlin Majere, Guardian of the Blue Star," he answered. "I seek a lost item."

The lead barbarian leapt from his horse, "Lord Miiro, we had given up hope. You must see the Elder."

Well, at least he knew he was getting close...

* * *

Marion Uth Maleste reined in Avanti when he suddenly reared. "What is it?" she asked.

_Your successor gets closer to his goal._

"That's a good thing isn't it?" she asked. "That's what I picked him for."

_One can only hope that he passes this last Test, my old friend_...

* * *

Raistlin sat in the long house while drinking his tea, grateful for a moment without the biting cold wind, and also for not having to sit in a house of snow. The Elder did not speak Common, and his speech had to be translated into Common for Raistlin who did not speak the Ice People language. The lead warrior listened to the elder for a moment, then said, "He said, 'I saw your coming from over the snows and beyond the sands, where trees still grow taller than men. I know who sent you, and why. The Great Shifting Ice gave me this vision, as well as one of what final Test you must pass to reach your goal'."

Setting his clay cup down, Raistlin asked, "Test?"

"'The one all of your brethren have strived to pass before being bestowed the Blue Star, or if by some miracle they possess it already, to prove they are worthy of its blessing and burden. You will be faced with a question of your conviction and how well you understand this'," said the Elder translated through the warrior. "'We can help you, for I have seen an unforseen complication in matters. A wrinkle in your Test, one not meant to be there. Plainly I tell you this, Reylanna was not jesting about 'death on wings of ice', Guardian. You face one of the oldest and deadliest creations seen on the face of Krynn. This death on wings of ice is a white dragon'."

For a moment Raistlin was without comment, and he swallowed. In all his early life, although hearing of the dragons, thought them mere legend meant to scare children. Then, when later educated otherwise, he had never really expected to come face to face with this ancient creature. With a dry mouth he asked, quietly, "Do you know how old the dragon is, how large?"

The warrior took a moment to translate, then the Elder nodded, sadly shook his head in answer, and answered. The warrior paled, but translated, "'Sadly, I do not know that. I only know that it was a big dragon when it took Icewall Castle, and remains a large dragon now. Now we cannot get to our holy site, and our people go missing. The Blue Star is there in Icewall Castle'."

Raistlin looked to the South, as if seeing the item over the distance even though he could see it literally. Then he turned to the Elder, "I ask one favor in return of a favor."

The Elder indicated his acceptance, and Raistlin said, "I need Darkmist to be boarded until I return. I will need him to get back off the glacier, and out of the desert... and back home. But I know that if I try to drag him with me that he will die, and because I won't have him I will also. I foraged as much as I could for him, but I have my limits."

"'I can promise you four months. After that, because of how much he will eat, I will have to turn him loose. After that, if he is smart, he will head back North to where the scrubland grows. However, I cannot promise that the others will not hunt him for food. Meat is scarce due to the dragon, but as you ask it, I shall only promise that'," answered the Elder.

"I can accept that," said Raistlin, knowing that Darkmist was smart and would head for the scrubland and at least survive.

* * *

Raistlin took two days and nights to renew his energy and study his spells. He sharpened the curved blade, practicing the katas while he was at it. The sword was light and quick, and although he didn't fully understand it, it seemed slightly quicker, slightly lighter, and sharper, the edge keen as it ignored hardened ice and sliced through the practice blocks like a hot knife through butter.

He polished it, even though he knew through experience with Caramon that the high polish meant that he was a mere novice at using the blade. But... there was something about the katana that belied that. Something that said letting it get nicked and damaged, and mistreating it, was almost sacrilege to the blade. The runes carved into the blade were even a purer sun gold.

After he polished and sharpened the sword he checked the rest of his equipment. This time he wore a thick leather that was colored white and blue so that he would mix into the landscape. It seemed to be the third change in clothing and he looked at his red robes with a bit of guilt.

If he was to never wear them, what was the point of even taking the Test of High Sorcery? He allowed himself a brief moment of frustration.

He was 'meant' to do this? By who? Another God that was bent on jerking him around like a puppet? He sneered as pulled out his robes and refolded them carefully, onto to put them back in the pack with his spell book and other supplies. Finally he walked out, patted Darkmist on the nose before leaving the camp, heading South to the tall mountain of ice that could be seen in the distance.

* * *

**A/N**: The katana, for those of you who play lots of Role-Playing Games, is what is called a _Soul Blade_. What's a Soul Blade? A Soul Blade is a weapon that learns abilities and magic. When Raistlin first looked at it, it was a masterworked katana (which, unless a really cheap mass-produced one, all are...) with runes on it. Those runes are what make the Soul Blade learn abilities from use. Raistlin isn't hallucinating that it's getting easier to use or has a keener edge: it does. Now it has some magical abilities, and will gain more as he uses it as he's a wizard. It has the potential to learn some of his spells. Considering he's about to go up against a white dragon, it could also learn some nifty tricks to kill dragons.... 


	11. Chapter Nine

_**A/N**_: This chapter holds a bit more romance for Raistlin. I tried for a different twist on the whole Irda daughter thing...

* * *

Chapter Nine

* * *

He could honestly say he wasn't sure what was worse; the blistering heat of the desert or the cold that was so deep and so penetrating that it sucked all life out of the surroundings. At least in Solace it trees survived and the cold wasn't so biting as to instantaneously freeze any part of the body not covered thickly in the leather or oiled to prevent windburn.

Raistlin leaned against the wall of ice, looking at the walls of the glacier as they extended high into the mountain. He was not far from his destination and he could sense that very, very soon that it would reach its conclusion... in whatever way that went.

He honestly wasn't sure of which way it was going to go, but he would be damned if he got this far to die.

The paths to climb seemed to be cut into the ice into near perfect stairs and seemed like they had been used recently, and often. The snow was packed into near solid ice and the ice was chipped here and there. He reached the top of the stairs and sucked in a gasp at the sight that met him.

Icewall Castle was a building of stone and ice. The ice lent it a shimmering air that glittered in the sunlight that managed to get through the thick clouds overhead. He was sure that in the summer months that the sun would have a blinding effect on it as it would reflect off the near crystalline structure. He walked across the frozen courtyard and into the main gate, pushing open the door as he did so.

Raistlin walked through and into the inner courtyard where the stone was curiously not ice covered...

The door slammed shut behind him and he sucked in another startled breath at the garden within.

Where outside it was cold, unforgiving and deadly inside was near tropically warm and full of life. A fountain bubbled up fresh and clean water, and an expansive garden that could only mean one thing to Raistlin stood within the castle walls.

This one thing meant another wizard of considerable power and skill- and he had walked right into the trap like an innocent fly herded by a wolf spider. He cursed, and was surprised as a newly, and all to familiar, accented rich voice said, "Now, now, Raistlin, that is no way to greet your mother in law."

He turned around to gaze at the wizard that had neatly trapped him.

It was Reylanna.

* * *

Marion Uth Maleste reined in Avanti as the southern desert savannah turned into scrub land. In this scrubland she could clearly see the large black charger freely wandering around grazing on the scarce grass he could find. She whistled and he twitched an ear, "So, your new master has wandered from the desert..."

She dismounted Avanti and walked over to the nervous horse, hand held up non-threateningly as she managed to touch his nose, then finally calmed him enough to be able to scratch his head. "Easy, boy, I bet your more than a bit hungry. Go a bit farther North, there is an oasis where you will find water and food."

Darkmist tossed his head then began to gallop North with Avanti guiding him. She sighed, then began her own trek South.

* * *

Reylanna walked around Raistlin as if taking stock of him. Raistlin, in the warmth of the castle, had stripped himself of the heavy winter leathers and furs. He was now dressed in his red robes as he leaned on the Staff of Magius in her study. An untouched glass of wine was in his hand as he stared into the fire. She finally nodded her head, "I was a good judge of your strength, you know. My daughter is quite taken with you and I would like to see your return to our tribe, if only to father more sons like the one you have already given her."

He looked up at her in surprise, "I have not been gone long enough."

"Oh, but you have fathered a child, a son actually, who while still in Xahira's womb, will be like no other. Strong like his desert brethren, but built in a wiry and lithe fashion. As intelligent and strong of mind like his father," said Reylanna, also staring into the fire, her black robes lending her an even more mysterious, if threatening, aura. "Imagine, Raistlin, a child strong both in body and mind with your bloodline and mine in the magic, and the added benefit of the Fragment of Miiro."

He turned to face her as a coy smile slipped slowly into her features, her red lips undoubtably painted that way by some plant in her garden making her olive skin seem dusky in the firelight. "I do know something of it, my son."

"I am not your son."

"No, but you have married my daughter, by arranged marriage or not, that makes you my son by marriage," the smile widened as she spoke, knowing that the strands of her web had finally tightened beyond the point of escape by her quarry. "And that makes you mine. And now, you have given me a grandson. You can never be rid of me, Raistlin Majere."

Raistlin turned back to the fire and Reylanna sidled up closer to him, "My husband likes you like a brother. He rejoiced when I suggested giving Xahira to you, only his reasons were so innocent. He honestly thought that by tying you to him he would gain a son and that he would give you a measure of stability. 'A moment of respite from your terrible burden' as he called it! But I can give much more than an innocent virgin girl's prize in marriage. I can give you ecstasy not only in body and mind, but in the magic."

"And what of your people and your husband?" demanded Raistlin. "What of my own wife, now that I have one to call my own?"

"Jafir can be taken care of, Raistlin..." she walked over and sat in one of the richly embroidered chairs. "In fact, it is already in motion. Think of it this way, not only do you again save one of Jafir's harem, but as right of marriage to his eldest child you would be the new Sheikh. With me as your second wife and my daughter as your head wife, imagine the power! You would be Sheikh of Sheikhs in a matter of a few short years!"

For a moment, Raistlin was sorely tempted. Then he remembered Jafir. Granted, Jafir had not been totally honest with him in the beginning but it was not for selfish gain but out of sacrifice for his clan and for his family... not to mention other families. He had also accepted Raistlin with no qualms. Besides two others, Meggin in Solace and the herbalist in Haven, he had no one else he could honestly say that about...

...besides Caramon...

But Caramon had been raised to believe that his duty was to watch over him. He had not had the opportunity to actually decide whether he liked Raistlin or not like the others.

Something within Raistlin buried beneath the ambition uncoiled itself.

"No," he said quietly, closing his eyes for a moment as he said it.

"What?" came her even, quiet voice.

He turned to face her and more firmly, "No."

For a moment Reylanna was speechless, then before he could have enough time to counter her, he found himself flung into the opposite wall with enough force to knock him senseless.

* * *

A sudden feeling that she would soon be needed for the finality of the test about to come caused her to pause. She knelt on the ground, her hand over her heart. "Armor of the Blue Star protect its Guardian..."

Within moments, her olive skin had turned golden, her black hair the silver white and her hazel eyes a rich gold like her skin. With another moment of concentration she was airborne...

* * *

Raistlin came to with the sensations of his feet freezing while the rest of him shivered in the extreme cold. A few moments later he realized why as he found himself hanging upside down in an ice-rimed cavern with his feet encased in ice and hardened snow to hold him there. "I thought she was bringing me a tasty morsel, but I would spend too much time trying to get the gristle out from between my teeth if I were to eat you..."

He blinked and turned his body so he could see the speaker. He came face to eye with the massive white dragon. The dragon blinked and sighed, "You're not even good for my children. So... what am I to do?"

A female, and from the look of it, egg heavy white dragon. "Don't eat me?" quipped Raistlin.

She looked up at him, folding her forelegs and leaning her head on them. "That would certainly look to be the situation. But I am _very_ hungry..."

"I saw an encampment of Thanoi to the North West of here. I could show you where they are..." Raistlin suggested, mentally going through what little memorized spells he had, and thinking, _For the first time in my life, I'm very, very _glad_ I'm the skinny twin_...

For a moment she thought about it, then said, "Or, you would escape. Not that it would matter much. You die here, I'll freeze you in case I got desperately hungry and eat you then, or I'll let you down and you keep me entertained until my children hatch, and they would eat you."

"Hmm," Raistlin thought about it. "I'll take the 'let me down' part. The blood is rushing to my head I rather suspect I'll faint shortly... although, the minute you right me I'll faint anyway. I'm freezing to death, the blood is rushing to my head, and when you put me down the pressure change will force me into shock. Either way, if I'm going to die, I think it will be shortly..."

He closed his eyes and then heard the shuffled movement, then, as he did faint as he had warned her, he felt himself drop into her claws and be laid on the soft snow. "We White Dragons may not have much in the way of body heat, wizard, but what little I have you are welcome to..." was the last he heard as the enveloping bulk of her lifted him and let him lie under her wing, but on her soft and bulging scaled belly.

A few hours later he awoke to a feeling of being much warmer and more comfortable. The White Dragon had built using bits of leather and worn bones a type of 'nest' for him against the cold and had even summoned a magical fire to warm him. She kept herself as far away from the fire as she could, but he could see that she slept within easy grabbing distance. He sat up slowly, drawing his thick robes around him, still slightly chilled from the hours spent hanging upside down. Her keen hearing woke her and she ambled over, the egg-heaviness of her making her more than a bit slow and pondering. It was then he realized that she was not just a _big_ dragon, she was _huge_. "How old are you?" he asked.

A rumble was his answer, and he presumed it was a draconic laugh when she answered, "Now, did anyone tell you that it is terribly rude to ask a lady her age?"

"Yes, but my social skills tend to be rather blunt," he answered.

"Ah, and I have been lacking as well. I am Stormraven, and you are...?"

"Raistlin Majere," he answered. "Of the Order of Red Robes."

The dragon settled so she could look him in the eye. "Red? As in a neutral? Now, why would Reylanna have thrown you to me?"

"We had a... disagreement where I refused to marry her," answered Raistlin.

The dragon then and truly laughed, a loud sound that Raistlin had to wince at hearing as the entire cavern shook. "Now that would be the reason! That Reylanna has been refused so many times and each time she throws her would-be suitors to me. The last was a boor, but I think that I like you. You seem... somewhat different, Raistlin," she said then lowered her massive head so that he could actually almost see over it. "I don't suppose you could lure those Thanoi here, could you? I'm so very hungry..."

"What happened to eating me?" he asked, startled.

"You are different. You and I have something in common, and so I don't see you as 'food' anymore. But... if you would like to cement this new friendship, could you please find me some real food? Not that drivel Reylanna feeds me?" the dragon piteously begged.

Strangely surprised, Raistlin promised, "I shall do what I can... but... can you fly?"

"I can, but Reylanna cast wards on the entrance of my lair reinforced by the power of Nuitari himself and built up the wall so that only those smaller than a large horse could enter. I cannot break the ice because of Nuitari's power, and the wards would kill my children if I tried," she explained. "But you can..."

"Lady, I have no idea where I am..." he explained, but then bowed his head and walked to the entrance that she had indicated.

Touching the ice, he tapped it. It was indeed magically imbued as Stormraven had told him, and he could sense the inherent evil nature of the magic. This Reylanna had made sure that her prize could not escape while insuring that there was a method for food to get in. Finally Raistlin walked out into the cold and got him bearings.

A large walrus man pointed to him and he realized why the encampment was there as he ducked back in. The Thanoi had made their camp around the lair, thinking that the dragon was dead because of the amount of ice around it, in order to eventually plunder her horde. Raistlin could hear the chase as the Thanoi warriors followed him in. Finally he found himself in the cavern, except it was empty...

When the Thanoi charged in Stormraven hungrily swept down on them and slew the hunting party completely. Eating her fill, which took out most of the Thanoi bodies, she then used her magic to freeze the rest to store them for later. She turned red rimmed eyes to Raistlin and with a toothy grin said, "Thank you, Raistlin Majere, for feeding me the best I have been fed since imprisoned. Reylanna kept me hungry and without enough strength to call on my Dark Queen to bend the renegade to my will. But you have freed me..."

Raistlin felt the powerful magic as the ice wall keeping the White Dragon within the fortress fell and as she swept out. He crept out in and in dark fascination watched the carnage that befell the Thanoi encampment as the Dragon killed those that attacked her and dragged in, still screaming, those who had ran out of fear.

The power he had witnessed was intoxicating, and he followed her in and watched as she slowly encased those survivors in ice while they still lived. "Ah, my sweetlings, my children... you will have fresh meat when you hatch. And impressed upon your very minds will be the mortal who saw to it that you were able to be laid..." she turned to him and gestured. As consciousness fled against the too difficult pull of the magical sleep, he heard, "I prefer to lay my eggs in private, Raistlin..."

The sun was twinkling in when he next awoke, still blessedly warm, and gazed out in wonder at the transformation before him. One corner of the empty cavern was filled with at least fifteen off white eggs the size of a fully grown man, but the White Dragon was no where to be seen. He walked over to one egg and put one hand against the warm, and still soft, shell. What felt like a pulse in his palm almost made him feel... well... the fact that according to Stormraven that these eggs would have never been laid unless with his intervention gave him a certain amount of satisfaction.

A rich voice startled him out of his reverie, "I am glad that you feel affinity for them, Raistlin."

He turned to see a pale white woman with skin and hair the color of snow walk towards him and then lay one slim hand on the egg he had touched, "They recognize their foster parent, and welcome him."

"Stormraven?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes, I am she," said the woman.

His surprise turned to shock as he realized that she wore no clothing. He averted his eyes and looked back at the eggs. In vague amusement, she asked, "What's wrong? Am I not attractive?"

"No, Stormraven, you're quite beautiful, but you are also quite naked," he said, clearing his throat.

"Naked?"

"You're nude, undressed," he said. "You ah..."

She smiled, "Ah, and this makes you uncomfortable, no? I thought you wore those robes because of the cold, not out of modesty. I am sorry, is this better?"

He turned to see her dressed in a black dress than served to cover her, although obviously not to keep her warm. Not that she had to worry about freezing to death... "In answer to your earlier question, I am very, very old," she said. "In your human equivalent, I am venerable. But dragons are immortal, or mostly so. We are the true children of the Gods and while we White Dragons are not the brightest candles in the draconic family, we are far more intelligent than you humans. With time we become wise as the Wizards of High Sorcery, and as skilled. A few of us have joined the ranks of the Wizards as Black Robes... although... there have been exceptions..."

"You're not telling me that there have been evil dragons that have been White Robes, are you?" asked Raistlin in disbelief.

"No, but I am telling you for a race that is inherently evil, there have been a few dragons closer to Neutral than they were Evil, and they are the longest living members..." she trailed off. "I can imagine you see where I lead with this?"

"You're one of them," he said. "That's why you didn't kill me, isn't it?"

She nodded, "As I grew older, and wiser, I began to realize that my cousins were a stupid lot. I found myself isolating myself more and more until I finally had enough and moved off into solitude. As I grew even older, I learned magic and finally the spell that allowed me to change my form. You see, most dragons have the ability to change form into that of something else. The White Dragons do not although we can learn magic that will enable that."

"So..." he said. "You're a wizard..."

"Yes, in fact, I even watched over your Test, Raistlin," she smiled as he looked at her in shock, and with a small nod. "Yes, I saw you kill the illusion of your twin brother, thinking that he had somehow taken what made you special. I felt for you and vehemently opposed Par-Salian's decision to 'brand' you the way he did... I have something to show you, my wizard."

He walked numbly to her food stores and pointed to a figure in the ice, "This is the reason Reylanna imprisoned me..."

In the ice Raistlin recognized Xahira.

* * *

Marion landed a few short feet away from Icewall Castle, recognizing the layers of magic as she did so. Drawing her double bladed sword as she recognized something of a chaotic nature, she walked cautiously around the outer wall.

* * *

Raistlin turned on the Dragon, "You killed Xahira?!"

"A long time ago, Raistlin," soothed Stormraven. "Reylanna found me out a short time after you left the Tribe. Or rather, I found her out when I saw her leave my 'father's' tent. I pursued her, and soon found out that she was heading here."

Raistlin's eyes widened in shock and bile rose. "It was you the entire time? You're the Xahira I married? This one has been dead the entire time?"

She chanted for a moment, and he recognized the language of magic, and then her form changed into the desert girl, "But don't you recognize me, my Prince? Do you still love me like you did before you knew what I truly was?"

The eggs... "What about that?" he gestured to the eggs.

"What about them?"

He turned to see the snow drift away, revealing that the faint gold tinge to the mostly white eggs. "Our children will be very strong, and blessed with the same free will to choose their way of life. You have given them that," Stormraven/Xahira took his chin in her hand and turned his face so that he faced her. "When she had discovered my trick, she trapped me in here so that I could not feed enough to lay our eggs," her eyes lit with a furious rage, "Our sons and daughters will be powerful indeed, Guardian. Think of it, not only will they be strong in magic and in body, but carrying dragon blood in their veins, and having a dragon heritage! Magic that comes naturally, and with the gift of the Miiro as well!"

Raistlin shook. He didn't know which way to turn or which way to jump and in his mind he could clearly see two paths. One led into darkness, but held a great power that he could not fathom. The more he gazed down that path the more he heard whisper, _If your armor is dross..._

He pulled himself out of that path and pushed the White Dragon in woman form away, clutching at his head as he did so, moaning, "No... stop... leave me alone..."

Stormraven knelt down as he fell to his knees still moaning as if in great pain. She laid a compassionate hand on his head and stroked his hair, "My poor, poor husband..." she neatly opened his spell component pouch and took out a handful of rose petals. "_Ast simulran krynawi_."

Raistlin sighed then fell into the deep slumber, again forced into it by magic. Whatever spell resistance he had melted like butter on a hot summer day and he collapsed into the woman's arms, sleeping in her embrace. She picked him up, wrapping him in the blankets she had taken from the Thanoi, and then carried him back to the corner of the cavern that she had made specifically for him to warm him. "The poor dear," she murmured. "The stress has finally gotten to him..."

She didn't realize how close she was to the truth...

Raistlin's dreams, while still magically forced into a slumber so deep that dreams should not have occurred, were tormented. He relived his Test at the tower of High Sorcery, only now in the place of Caramon was Xahira. As he watched her burn at his own hands, he heard, "I thought you loved me..."

He stilled for awhile, and Xahira, as she had come to be known, stroked his hair in worry. It had been over twelve hours since she had cast Sleep on him, and he should have awoken by now...

_Dreams_.

He could not keep them at bay. He was aware that he nearly awoke a few times during his slumber, and of someone trying to soothe him with a cool, yet strangely warm, touch to his brow and murmured words that while beyond his understanding the tone was clearly meant to comfort.

But he found no comfort here.

Xahira waited, her knees tucked up under her head and her arms wrapped around him as she watched her human sleep. Finally, her draconic senses picked up on the change in breathing as he finally fell into the sleep he should have had.

Finally, the aim of the dream came clear as he followed her down a stair to a deep blue well. _Friends are never as they appear_... _but still friends_... _can you accept a hand that cares for you because they chose to, not because they have to?_

Raistlin fell into the well, and darkness that was deep and blissful surrounded him.

* * *

Marion walked into the garden as the door slammed shut. A woman's voice said, "My, this must be my week. Not one, but two Guardians fall into my trap... welcome Lady Uth Maleste. I have been waiting for you for a very, very long time..."

Turning to face Reylanna, she said, "Where is Raistlin Majere, Reylanna?"

"Dragon food by now," answered the Dark Elf. "A pity your successor was such a failure...

Something within the older Guardian broke and felt a bit of despair. It had not been intended to end this way....

* * *


	12. Chapter Ten

**A/N**: In answer to both Dalamar and Question: Yes, Xahira/Stormraven was planned, and yes, she does have something to do with Icingdeath.

* * *

Chapter Ten

* * *

Xahira sat by her husband as she waited for him to awaken. She knew, even though she was by far one of the few White Dragons to take a companion out of choice, that soon either he, or she, would need their solitude and then they would split. It was too bad, really, Raistlin had so much potential with his magic and she found herself fascinated with him. Laying her head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat, she murmured, "Our eggs will hatch and soon you will be far from here, far from the cold... My race, or at least my type of race, is solitary in nature. We don't even get along with other white dragons, let alone humans, elves, and even the ogre... You could stay with me but the cold would soon kill you, and if I tried to follow you the heat would soon kill me."

She kissed him lightly on the lips, "I would not be so cruel as to make you forget me, but I cannot face your death... and seeing me die would break your will... Please remember me and this time we had. Our children may seek you out, but... perhaps they may not..."

Standing up and then casting a warm spell on the area of the cavern she had carved into a near apartment for him, and also her when in human form, she walked out into the cold. Breathing deep and cancelling the spell that had kept her in human form she changed to her draconic form just as a familiar woman walked into the cavern. Snarling, she said, "Reylanna."

"I would say it is nice to see you, my dear daughter..." it was then that Reylanna noticed that Stormraven was no longer egg heavy in her pregnancy.

The Black Robe's eyes thinned. "I see. I must say I am surprised that one skinny wizard was enough to feed your requirements for birthing. That fact prompts me to wonder just how much a dragon truly requires to clutch..."

"More than you think, Reylanna," said Raistlin as he stepped out of the niche in the wall.

Raistlin had awoken to find that Stormraven had left, then when he gone to find her he had caught the tail end of the conversation. Seeing his 'wife' in her true draconic form had surprised him a little. He had learned that she only did that if she planned to leave the cavern to look for food but he had noticed that after killing all the Thanoi she had more than enough for months. But the confrontation with Reylanna took precedence.

"Why, Raistlin, I must say I am surprised to see you still walking..." Reylanna looked from Stormraven to Raistlin and back again. "This is interesting Xahira. You protect your human mate. How unlike most white dragons..."

"I am not most white dragons," snarled Stormraven. "I am a Paragon, the perfect daughter of the Queen of Dragons. My sire is the Father of Dragons himself. Any of my children will also be Paragons, as will theirs so pure is my bloodline. All _other_ white dragons bow to _me_ as their Overlord as they strive for _my_ Perfection that they will never reach so impure is their own puny bloodline!"

Raistlin filed that information for later. It did account for her size and obvious intelligence, as well as her equally strong ego and pride in herself. Reylanna took an involuntary step back as also he did from dragonfear. Raistlin did not retreat so far back as Reylanna as he knew, although the instinct made him take at least one respectful step back, that Stormraven would not hurt him and her rage was not aimed at him. However, it was aimed at Reylanna, who, while taking about five big steps back out of the main part of the cavern, still stood her ground. "Know this, Dragon, paragon or not, you still bow to me as the Master of Icewall. You still owe me one of your 'children'," she spat out the word as if a curse, "as my steed as a Dragon Highlord. If not me, then my successor who comes for Icewall Castle."

Stormraven roared then, sending a chill wind into the passageway where Reylanna cowered. It was not enough to kill Reylanna as it was not the aim. It was meant more as a warning, but both Reylanna and Raistlin clapped their hands over their ears as the roar reverberated and shook the entire glacier to its foundations. Looser ice stalagmites fell from the ceiling as they shattered on the ice below. Stormraven quietly said after, "My 'children' have their own free will, Black Robe. When they are born and old enough to leave my nest, ask them on whether they will take a subservient role to your wiles. I do hope you will have gained a little weight by then so as to at least give them a good meal..."

With that Stormraven lay down, eyes half lidded. Reylanna seemed to get the clue that the conversation was over with the dragon and shouted up to Raistlin, "Raistlin Majere, you may be protected now but you won't be forever! I will have my revenge on freeing my slave, and on my daughter's death! If I cannot have it on your mate, I will take it out on you and yours!"

Stormraven lifted her head and returned her focus on the passageway, her eyes sliding into mere slits, "Maybe you didn't understand when I said you were not welcome here. Leave now, or I _will_ eat you."

Reylanna called one last time, "Join me Raistlin, and I can give you power beyond imagining! I have Marion Uth Maleste and the Blue Star! What you seek I can give you!"

"Perhaps you didn't quite hear my wife, but I am quite in agreement with her," answered Raistlin finally, stepping out onto the ledge above Stormraven's right shoulder blade.

Finally, the speck in the distance twirled a flurry of black material and was gone up the passageway. Raistlin frowned as Stormraven turned her large head to gaze at him, barely having to sit up as she did so. "I am sorry I woke you," she said.

"Don't worry about it too much," answered Raistlin, frowning slightly in the direction where Reylanna had disappeared up the passageway. "Stormraven, how many Paragons are there?"

"Two for each color of dragon," answered Stormraven. "My clutchmate, where ever he may be, I have not seen in millennia."

"Which leads me to how old are you?" asked Raistlin, and he held up a hand, "Yes, I know. Don't ask a lady her age. But, since you are my 'mate', as Reylanna put it..."

Stormraven growled and glared down the passageway again, and Raistlin paused before continuing, "I think we should know these little details about each other even if it tells me how many candles will never be possible to put on your birthing day..."

"You can tell a dragons age by how large it is," she answered coyly as she lay back down. "So how old do you think me and I will tell you how accurate your guess is."

Raistlin actually chuckled at this as, even though she was a dragon, she was playing the oldest of the mind games possible to play with males of any species on him. He looked at the slightly bigger than men sized eggs and back to the mountain sized dragon. "Well... if you grow like humans can in youth, I would say you would be the size of a house by the time you were out of the equivalent of childhood. After that, if you grow at a slow steady pace, I would say you are well beyond our equivalent of venerable if you were the typical dragon and would be a doddering creature. But, as you said, you are a Paragon, an 'Overlord', and therefore not the typical dragon."

Stormraven's eyes were mere slits in amusement, "So, my mate, how old am I?"

"I would say, safely, well over ten thousand years old," he was surprised as she made a gesture meaning 'go higher' with her paw. "Twenty?"

Still higher.

"Thirty?"

"You're getting close, but still higher."

"Forty," another motion higher. "_Fifty?_"

"Close."

"Sixty," and was finally reward with 'lower'.

"Fifty-five thousand..." he murmured in awe and was rewarded with a slight nod.

"Fifty-five thousand, four hundred and seventeen, to be exact," she answered. "And, as a Paragon, I have no old age. I will continue to grow both in size and power until Krynn can no longer hold me. Then I will simply move on to the next plane of existence. But," she smiled a toothy grin. "That is still a very long, _long_ time to go yet."

"I can't even imagine," then Raistlin, once over that shock, remembered what Reylanna said and paled. "By the Gods of Magic... she has the Blue Star..."

Stormraven looked up at him, a bit of worry in her eyes, "I know, I heard. If she tries to use the power of the ring the results will be disastrous."

"I must stop her," Raistlin began to climb down, but Stormraven was already in the form of Xahira when he got down there. "Stormraven, what are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you."

* * *

The passageways were dark and maze-like. More than once Raistlin was glad for Stormraven's ability to see in the dark because if not for her he would have been lost for days just trying to find his way up to the castle level. He felt Stormraven stop dead in her tracks and hold his arm to prevent him from walking any further. "What is it?" he asked quietly.

"Chasm. There is a break in the maze and the tunnel continues across a large rift in the ice," she said, then sniffed the air. "But Reylanna has definitely been through here."

For the second time since being in the dark, he also marveled at her ability to smell Reylanna's trail. He ran a hand on the crystal of his staff, "Shirak."

The Staff of Magius lit brightly and he held it up to look at the chasm that separated them from the rest of their trail. Pressing his lips into a thin line of worry, he took stock of what he saw. One small ledge, which they stood on, another directly across the chasm. The chasm itself was at least fifty feet across. He looked down, holding his staff up as he did so but could not see the bottom of it. He looked up and could not see the top, the chasm extending up was also as vast. He picked up a loose piece of ice and let it drop.

It fell and even Xahira shook her head when he looked at her in askance to see if she had heard it strike bottom as he had not. He compressed his lips again and muttered, "What else can go wrong? Can you see handholds? Maybe she climbed up to another tunnel..."

"No, there are no handholds," answered Xahira as she looked up, and even down. "I do not understand this...!"

Raistlin paced in the short distance, "I don't suppose you can polymorph into a small bird or something and fly across to see if there is some sort of device?"

"No, I am sorry. I have to practice each form," she answered. "It took me months to learn how to walk in this form once I learned the spell to change into it."

He sighed and leaned up against the wall in frustration, "I don't understand. She had to get across somehow..."

He stepped to the ledge again, and looked down. A slithering sensation under his foot alerted himself to the sensation of falling and before Xahira could catch him, or he could catch himself, he had slid over the ledge as the edge gave way under his weight. With a small cry, he chanted the words of the featherfall spell and floated down as he heard Xahira keen in panic from the top of the ledge.

Two mere seconds later, he found his feet touching the bottom of the chasm. "I don't believe it..." he muttered. "Stormraven!"

He heard her stop keening and a flurry of motion barely twenty feet above him, "Raistlin? Are you unhurt?"

"I'm fine," he assured the dragon before she panicked again. "It appears that the chasm is not as deep as feared."

He held up the Staff and saw that the bottom was ice polished into a mirror surface. "It was an illusion of sorts. Mirrored surfaces. It made the chasm look deep, but it appears to only be about twenty feet deep and I think there is a door at the other side on this level."

A few mere seconds later, Stormraven had joined him at the bottom, and confirmed, "Mirrors. It is only a small hole..."

They walked over to the door set into the wall below and through it as Stormraven told him, "This is her trail."

* * *

Raistlin leaned on his staff to catch his breath, as well as rub his cold nose. He rather suspected that after all of this he would likely be sick and at Stormraven's mercy. As much as she seemed to be a rather 'decent' dragon, he wasn't sure how quick _mate_ would go turn into _food_. A short moment later her attention was whipped away and he heard her growl low at about the same time the tunnel began to lighten without the help of his staff. "Dulak," he whispered. "What is it?"

"Someone threatens my eggs..."

With that she was gone, leaving Raistlin alone to face Reylanna. Not that he blamed her really, the minute she had said eggs and threat in the same sentence, he had almost turned to follow her. He would have too if she hadn't taken off quite so fast...

But he continued on.

A few minutes later he found himself back in castle proper. Using his staff as a trap tester he walked on, opening doors and peeking into corners until he found the door he was looking for. On tiptoe he peered into the small barred window of the cell and saw Marion apparently carving a relief into the wall of her cell. He opened the door after picking the lock and said, "I would say hello, and gee, isn't this an interesting role reversal, but we don't have time. Which way is out of here?"

She looked up in surprise, stood up and walked out of the cell. "Reylanna is on the level above us," she grabbed his arm as he moved away. "I would be careful. There are Thanoi all over the place."

"I can take care of myself," he assured her as they searched out, and found, her gear. "You be careful. I would hate to have to come to your rescue... as, I think... we're even."

"So it would appear, Red, so it would appear," she said as she walked out of the dungeons, leaving him to deal with Reylanna.

He continued on, looking for a stair to take him to the next level while avoiding the Thanoi patrols. He slipped up the one level to what appeared to be 'ground' level as he could finally see outside through the small glass windows. It was also a level that was better taken care of with opulent tapestries and carpeting in the halls to remove the chill of the cold stone. The carpet served another use as it also muffled the sound of his footsteps as he quietly slipped from one room to the next. Finally, he found her bed chamber and slipped in.

A quick look around the room and he found his other purloined belongings and recovered them. Taking his katana in hand he held it above her neck and said, "Good morning Reylanna."

She woke with a start and a curse on her lips, "Damn you! I should have killed you myself."

"Ah, but you didn't," he grinned. "And now you pay the price!"

With one smooth swipe of his sword he severed her head from her shoulders. Almost immediately he felt the chill winds outside seep into the castle and the structure began to moan in the stresses. The castle was well built and therefore there was no threat of collapse, but the sound meant that the magical protection against the cold was now gone with Reylanna's death.

He quickly turned the room upside down in the search for the Blue Star but did not find it. Raistlin took a moment to concentrate on the instinct that would tell him where it was.

It was below him... and moving away...

... which meant Marion had the ring, and likely had the entire time!

_What the Hell was this?!_ he mentally questioned as he cleaned his sword and sheathed it, and began to run back to the passageways that would take him to his mate's lair. _A damn game that I was to play for her? Some stupid Test? What?!_

Thanoi, alerted to the presence of the assassin, began to show themselves and Raistlin had to fight his way back into the dungeons and then into the secret paths. He held out his staff and shouted, "Shirak!"

The staff lit and he could finally see his way out, and one quick glance back told him that the Thanoi were not very far behind. He came out at full speed into the mirror cavern and then, in his hurried mind, wondered how in the Abyss he was going to climb a wall...

... but then something strange happened as his feet found a small crevice and without hardly touching the wall he sprang up it to land on the ledge above. The Thanoi shouted in their guttural language, probably threats of his death, before they too tried to climb the wall with less success.

He took one last look of this new development before he turned and began to run to the cavern...

* * *

Stormraven countered the great sword arc with a hardened claw before sending the warrior sprawling in the snow. His armor kept him from being truly hurt but he was tiring and soon Stormraven would get the opening she would need to crush the impudent fly where he stood.

In the past, when a smaller dragon, she had dealt with Knights before. Every so often a self righteous young knight or paladin would come seeking her lair for an easy kill, and even easier fame. Most of them were now encased in ice waiting for her to eat them, or, if their armor and equipment was valuable or magical, were merely a doll to showcase a part of her horde. But she had _thought_ that being this far south into the great glaciers that they would just _give up_.

She had been wrong.

From the direction that Raistlin had gone another armored figure ran into the fray, and she incorrectly gauged it as another foolish enemy. When the first bite of her sword in Stormraven's side bit, Stormraven let a roar of pain, fury, and surprise that shook the Icewall...

* * *

Raistlin was, as far as he knew, about halfway back to Stormraven's lair when he felt more than heard the massive roar that shook the entire mountain. He fell down, sitting and leaning against the tunnel wall. A part of him froze in terror, but another one seemed galvanized into action. He jumped to his feet and ran even faster, then, used the staff to cast haste on himself to make himself move even faster.

He ran into the cavern just as he saw Marion leap onto Stormraven's shoulder blades and drive the flaming portion of her double bladed sword into Stormraven's neck. Almost in slow motion as the haste spell was still in effect, he saw Marion brace herself against the falling dragon...

... Stormraven seemed to crumple and simply fall to the snow, her whispered voice carrying to him, "Our eggs... our children..."

With that she stopped breathing forever. Raistlin stopped dead in his tracks, the haste spell ending just as Marion turned and saw him. "Ah, Raistlin, just in time. The beast has been terrorizing the Ice Barbarians for years..."

Raistlin drew his sword, his rage preventing even the most basic of spells being recalled. No matter, his katana would settle this for him. Marion stepped towards him, puzzled, "Raistlin, are you feeling all right?"

Another Knight came around the corner from where the eggs where hidden, "Lady Uth Maleste, the foul beast's spawn have been taken care of. These dragons will not terrorize the people anymore."

For a moment there was an awkward silence as the young Knight of Solamnia saw the obviously angry Red Robe wizard with a very sharp sword in one hand and an equally heavily enchanted staff in the other and the other Knight who seemed to be trying to placate said extremely angry wizard, ";Raistlin, what is with you? Reylanna threw you to the foul beast. I am glad you somehow survived..."

"Your 'foul beast' was my _wife_ and those helpless dragon eggs you just slaughtered were our _children_," whispered Raistlin lethally.

It was a quiet whisper that seemed to echo in the huge cavern as both knights stopped dead in their tracks. Marion's eyes widened in shock, while the young knight shook a little in a sudden fear. If there was a female dragon and eggs, it stood to reason, in his mind, that there would be a male dragon too... and he was really sure that the frail young wizard in front of him was said male dragon.

Even if he was not a dragon, the ire of a full wizard was enough to scare the Knight anyway... "Ah, Lady Uth Maleste, maybe we should..."

Marion was quiet as she looked down and then up again at the wizard, "I'm sorry, Raistlin, I didn't know... but she was still carrying off Ice Barbarians."

Raistlin laughed then, a sharp biting and hateful laughter, "Oh, how stupid that sounds. Xahira was trapped in here until I freed her only a mere week ago. Reylanna had trapped her, bound her here with spells. No... the monster you searched for was not here but in the castle itself! And... further... I have already slain her and done your job for you while you betray me by killing an innocent! Where are your high and mighty Solamnic morals now, Lady Uth Maleste? I should have known I was being used."

"Raistlin, it isn't like that at all!" claimed Marion. "We honestly did not know!"

The young knight sneered, "Forget him, Lady. What would a wizard know about morals anyhow? Look at his chosen 'mate'. A beast of evil. She would have hunted innocent people down had she been free."

Raistlin turned to the knight, hourglass eyes narrowed in fury. In his temper his golden skin reappeared and he took one, then two, and then three steps that were enough to give him and his sword enough momentum to slice the Knight in two from his left shoulder to his right hip in one graceful slice through armor and bone like the katana blade had been freshly forged and the armor was mere ice and snow.

Marion stared in horror while Raistlin stood slowly over the two halves of the young knight that lay dead at his feet, and in horror whispered, "Raistlin Majere... what have you done...?"

"She knew more honor than either of you," he said evenly, low, but not quite in a whisper, standing from the post swipe crouch and turning to face her.

There was really no describing the look on his face. It was both strangely devoid of emotion, yet in a colder rage than he had ever known. It had banked to a manageable level, but still fueled him enough to allow for his mind to remember each and every spell he had. But just underneath the barely restrained control it still simmered and was ready to boil over. He buried the katana point first into the snow and ice and took one half step back, his staff braced before him.

"I don't need a sword for this," he said evenly. "You don't deserve that honor, knight. You die by my magic today."

She braced her sword in front of her and they stood that way for a long moment when she said, "I don't know where it went wrong, Raistlin, but it was not supposed to be this way."

"It went wrong when you lied to me," he said. "The Blue Star was never stolen. I can sense it on you, on your finger I see it. It shines. And today I take it from your cold dead hand, even if I have to cut that hand from your body!"

Her face changed from its serenity to one of determination as she made the first move and her sword arced down to be blocked by the Staff of Magius in Raistlin's hands. The impact cracked loudly in the cavern and Raistlin was forced back, sliding in the snow on one knee. He countered by jabbing the butt of the staff into her stomach, but it bounced off her armor.

Touching her armor with one hand he chanted and lightening arced over her as she screamed in the sudden pain. She staggered back and Raistlin, in a sudden move grabbed his sword from the snow and stabbed through armor and bone straight through her chest. Marion spat out through the blood than bubbled in her mouth, "I thought you said that magic would finish me..."

"I lied like you lied to me," he said, then changed his mind and with both hands on either side of her head, chanted another spell as a storm of multicolored light went off in the cavern centered around her head.

When he released her, she was unrecognizable. As promised, he cut her hand off and pulled off the simple gold ring with the sapphire that constantly burned with an inner fire like it was a star held within. He looked at it for a moment before sliding the ring onto his right ring finger. "I call this 'poetic justice'. Next time I finish you," he said. "I have my own ambitions and this will help me with them. So much for your precious _duty_. Not that you truly lived up to what you claimed. Good bye, Marion."

"That which protects you now becomes your curse..." he heard whispered on the wind. "You will walk forever marked as a Fallen Fragment...tarnished and tainted."

He walked to the chamber where the eggs were and used his magic to clean up the debris. He stopped suddenly as he unburied one single unharmed egg, one that he knew would carry his daughter. Using his magic to cast a circle of protection. She would be assured to grow. Movement of large wings behind him caused him to turn to regard the large white dragon behind him. This one was a male and the two simply stared at each other when the large dragon said, "So, you are my clutchmate's chosen mate."

"I didn't realize that she had a brother bigger than she was," said Raistlin. "If you have come to pick over her remains be warned that I will protect my daughter with my last breath."

"Oh, don't worry, dragonmate," he answered. "I came to carry that egg away from danger so that it would hatch and grow. We paragons look after our own. In case she ever asks, what shall I tell my niece about her father?"

"That he loved her mother," answered Raistlin. "And that she deserves to be raised with her best interests in mind, and where her talents would be trained."

"Would you like to name her?"

Raistlin looked up at the white dragon, then said quietly, "Maigrey Stormhawk."

The white dragon nodded, "Maigrey Stormhawk... Very well, she will be named that. If you ever have need of me, ask among my lesser cousins for the one called Icingdeath."

"Icingdeath..." murmured Raistlin. "My name is Raistlin Majere of Solace."

Icingdeath took the single surviving egg in his claw then crouched low, "Raistlin, Solace is far to the North. I can take you as far as desert and then I depart to my own domain. Do you accept my aid?"

With one last glance around, Raistlin said sadly, "Gladly."

* * *


	13. Epilogue

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

The large black charge bore the Red Robe wizard proudly. Both were road worn and dusty. The wizard's red robes were travel worn and a bit faded from heavy sun and he was slightly hunched over. Perhaps the most startling detail that people could see besides the blood red robes were the staff in his left hand and the sword strapped to his left hip, clearly for use with his right hand.

This alone marked him among the learned as a full fledged war wizard, one unafraid to ride alone for he could defend himself against whatever came up against him.

But it was the obvious use that both items had... as well as how very exotic and expensive they both must have been. But no road thief was foolish enough to challenge this lone figure even if he rode with a slight slump from exhaustion.

He rode into Solace and straight, as if he knew where he was going, to the stables of the Inn of the Last Home. By then word had already traveled to nearly anyone in town and those who were curious watched as he rode at a swift and sure canter to the stairs.

One in town knew what it meant when a boy described a red robe with a staff topped with a multi-faceted crystal clutched in what appeared to be a claw of some sort of lizard... perhaps a small dragon? The sword this young warrior did not quite know what to make of it, but it was still news he had waited for nearly two years to hear.

Caramon Majere all but ran down the spiral steps to the ground level just as his twin brother tiredly climbed down from the magnificent charger's back. Letting his hood fall so that they could clearly see each other, Raistlin and Caramon simply stood there looking at each other. Caramon enveloped Raistlin into a tight and fierce hug that lifted the frail mage off his feet. "My brother!" he cried happily, then let his brother down to stand on the ground. "I was so worried! What happened, what have you seen?"

Raistlin smiled slightly. It was not a cynical smile, but Caramon could clearly see the pain and sadness behind it. Whatever had happened it had changed his brother... again. Raistlin answered, "I don't feel up to talking about it... maybe later, my brother?"

Caramon nodded, accepting that without question. There was no use in pushing for answers with Raistlin. When he felt like telling Caramon he simply would. If he didn't... well... he simply would not. And Caramon would simply have to accept that. "I heard that a lord up North is looking for recruits, perhaps we could sign up for some extra money...?"

Raistlin took out a bulging sack of steel coin from his saddlebags, and Caramon's eyes widened, "Perhaps later as well. Right now I feel like sleeping for a week..."

"Sure, Raist, whatever you say... if that's what you want."

"It's definitely what I want, my brother."

* * *

The rest was history. The War of the Lance occurred a few years later even though at this point it was brewing. A few years later Raistlin Majere made his bid at Godhood. Everyone forgot about the two years he wandered without Caramon or anyone else. Rumors of his daughter began to circulate, only a mistake was made: The tale told of an High Ogre (known as an Irda) woman giving birth to the child. Caramon tried to confirm the existence or lack of existence of said half Irda child...

... but of course Astinus could not give a definite answer. There was no Irda child of Raistlin, however, there was a Paragon White Dragon daughter of Raistlin Majere and Stormraven...

* * *

- FIN -

* * *

**A/N**: And that would the end of 'Blue Star', a fan fiction more than ten years in the making! 


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